Bushwhacked
by Kisu Pure
Summary: An average human, and an average Autobot, each with their own baggage. They discover that life is complicated. Hound/OFC; interspecies romance, drama, and conspiracies.
1. Earthshine

_This is one of those things that I really only wrote for myself, and didn't start writing it with the intention of posting it online for all to see. It'll be updated as I see fit... this first bit took several months, so don't hold your breath._

_Last edited July 2011._

* * *

Three days ago was when Astrid ran out of food, and in between the painful delirium and numbing bouts of unconsciousness, she was seriously beginning to feel it. Her stomach had stopped growling some six hours before, but she could feel the acid churn. But aside from not being able to reach the main compartment of her backpack because of the weight of the rocks and her position, she was glad that it remained on her back as it's aluminum frame had prevented the rocks from crushing her for the most part when the avalanche hit. She hadn't been able to feel her legs for four days now, but the fear concerned with that was nothing compared to the terror that rose up in her throat when she considered it was very possible -and probable- that she would die out here.

Was she really going to die? Alone and lost somewhere in the remote northeastern area of California? Her family probably reported her missing maybe the day before, which meant that search and rescue teams were combing the mountains from Lake Tahoe to Yosemite. It was a hopeless search; the square miles for them to cover were just too many.

Astrid once again found herself fighting unconsciousness. The struggle to free herself from the pile of rocks and debris grew weaker every day, and by now she had all but given up. As much as she would have liked to just fall asleep and die, she knew very well that the cause would be dehydration and starvation, and her last moments would be pure agony.

Another long day passed, littered with bouts of sleep. Evening settled around her in patronizing silence. Somewhere off in the distance she could make out, through the undulations of her own failing system, the sound of a helicopter. It took a few minutes for her brain to register, but before long she was able to comprehend the situation enough to lift her head and call for help.

Her voice was not her own. It was weak and hoarse, not nearly loud enough to be heard over the helicopter. Just that simple exertion of energy seemed to deplete what stores she had, and Astrid let her head fall back down again, eyelids heavy. Astrid was able to discern a noise to her right that sounded much like a car, but she felt too weak to pay it much attention. But when what might have been headlights came surging down the hillside from the trail above, one last burst of energy allowed her to say: "I'm over here."

She closed her eyes then and rested her head. A strange sound greeted her ears and she heard footfalls despite the helicopter drawing nearer. Astrid distantly felt weight being lifted from her back and legs, and what might have been many hands -or perhaps two large ones?- grasp her firmly and yank her out of the debris.

A very strange voice wove through the static in her brain. "Let's... get you out of..." But that was all she finally allowed herself to pass into unconsciousness.

_Finally, she could get some sleep._

Astrid was able to hear her own wheezing breaths, slow and steady, as she woke up. Her vision was blurry, but she recognized the face of a doctor hovering about, a clipboard in hand.

"Astrid!" A shriek from her left caused her to turn her head, a pain shooting down her neck.

"M...om?"

The woman beside the bed burst into tears as she fawned over her daughter. "Oh my god, you're alright!" The young woman weakly battled her mother away and groaned.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Schneider, but your daughter needs to rest. She's been through hell and back, as I'm sure you know," the doctor said.

"Of course," the woman sniffled, biting down on her lower lip.

Astrid adjusted herself in the hospital bed, attempting to sit up, but a pain and stiffness in her legs prevented it. "What... happened?"

The doctor set his clipboard under his arm, clicking the ballpoint pen in his hand a few times. "The tibia and fibula of your right leg have suffered from spiral fractures, you left patella has a hairline fracture, and your right hip got a pretty good bruising." He sighed. "And you suffered from some severe dehydration. We had to reintroduce liquids to your system gradually." He fumbled around with his files a bit, and pulled out a big white envelope. "MRI results were as expected... and here are your x-rays..." He stepped over to a lightbox on the wall, and put up one of the radiographs. He pointed out the fractures with his pen, and Astrid winced.

She looked down at her leg casts. Lo and behold, the right leg was in a full cast, bent at the knee. The left was in a knee-immobilizer.

"When can I go?"

"You'll be fit for release in two days at best. I'd suggest you buy a wheelchair and crutches from a medical supply store, (there's one on Irving and Harper), and when you're on your own two feet again, I'll send you for physical therapy."

Astrid's mother, Tracy, nodded exuberantly.

The doctor pulled a syringe out of his front coat pocket, flicked it once, and injected it into the IV line. Astrid watched him. "Morphine?" she asked, smiling weakly.

The doctor chuckled. "Enough to take the edge off. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be back to check on you again in a few hours?"

Astrid nodded. The doctor was about to leave the room when she stopped him. "Wait, one more question." He halted mid-step. "Who brought me to the hospital?" She knew the obvious answer would have been the search and rescue team that found her, but some strange, vague memory kept her from believing it.

"Well... I wasn't there, but... I heard from a guy down in ER that there was some civilian 4x4 vehicle following the ambulance. I guess they were with WSAR? I don't know. " The doctor shrugged, then smiled. "At least you made it here."

The doctor left, closing the door behind him slowly. Astrid's mom perked up again. "Really? A civilian?" It was whispered as though it were gossip. "I wonder why that could be."

Astrid closed her eyes again to sleep, and sighed. "I don't know," she breathed. "I think I've heard of it before, though. Hikers... stuck in the wilderness... and... search teams. One of them a civilian for some reason."

Tracy took her daughter's hand and squeezed tightly. "I'm just so glad you're safe," she said. Astrid grunted lightly and nodded her head. The morphine was beginning to kick in, and she couldn't help but begin to fall asleep. "You gave everyone such a big scare." She could hear her mother start to cry again. There was another tight squeeze, and the hand was removed. Tracy sniffled. "I'm going to go see about that medical store while you rest. I'll be back in a bit."

About two weeks had gone by since Astrid was released from hospital custody. She was on leave from her job as a guide at Adventures Inc. indefinitely, and against the wishes of her parents and sister, returned home to her house on the outskirts of South Lake Tahoe instead of staying with family in Sacramento. Her mother, however, took off a week from work to stay with her, but had to go back home the previous sunday and leave her daughter to her own devices.

The day Astrid was released she began to get calls from journalists and news people for interviews about her story, and (_complying _with the wishes of her parents and sister) did a single phone interview for the town paper.

What began to eat away at her though, was the fact that she never was able to thank the people that saved her, or even see their face. She tried doing some internet research in her now copious amounts of spare time, but nothing more turned up except for a few stories of other hikers lost in the California wilderness who mention a civilian car involved in their rescue, only confirming what little she already knew. Just when she thought to give up and focus on recovering from her injuries, she received an email one day from someone under the alias "The Green Machine":

_Hey there Astrid,_  
_Just wanted to follow up and make sure you're all right._  
_-The Green Machine_

The message, though friendly, seemed cryptic. Who the hell was this person? She pondered for the entire day whether or not to reply, but curiosity got the best of her, and she finally, cautiously, began to write back.

_TGM-_  
_Who is this exactly?_  
_I'm doing better now. Able to putter around a bit, at least._  
_- A. Schneider_

She had planned on going to bed after sending the email, but a reply came fast. Eerily fast. In fact, according to the time logs, she received another message from The Green Machine 38 seconds later.

_Astrid,_  
_I'm very glad to hear it! They say you'd have been deactivated in less than 24 hours, but... better late than never, right?_  
_Oh! Well, since you asked, I guess I should tell you. Name's Hound. You probably don't remember, but I pulled you out of the debris. And about finding out your email, well... wonderful thing the internet is, right?_  
_At any rate, I'm happy to hear you're doing much better. Good luck on any future trips you might take!_  
_-Hound_

Astrid couldn't tell if she was relieved, or creeped out even more. She asked for his name, and he gave her another alias. She asked how he knew her, and he claimed to be part of the search and rescue team. Was this "Hound" with the press? Was he a stalker? He wasn't asking for any personal information, or digging for more story material, though. After spending some time puzzling over the situation, she decided to sleep on it.

She had to admit, sleeping was a pain in the ass when you had a cast on. And god forbid she needed to use the restroom in the middle of the night, seeing as how it took so long to get in and out of her wheelchair. But aside from that, the emails kept her up even with the Vicodin she took before bed. When Astrid couldn't take much more staring at the ceiling, she scrambled into her chair and wheeled over to the desk. She reread over his last email, and was thrown a bit by his choice of wording... _deactivated? _Astrid didn't really know what to make of it, but began to reply anyways.

_Hound,_  
_So... what you're trying to say is that my rescue more or less hinged on you finding me and digging me out?_  
_If that was you, why don't you tell me your real name?_  
_-Astrid_

She wheeled away to make a cup of coffee, returning to her computer about five minutes later with a hot mug full of fresh brew with a little cream. Again, there was already a brief reply.

_Well... yes... it was me. And I did tell you! My name is Hound._

Astrid blinked. That was his real name?

_Well Hound, thank you for saving me. I owe you my life. Honestly._

Not twenty seconds after she hit the send button was there a reply. Was this guy just sitting in front of his computer waiting for her to email him? It was like he was sending her messages as fast as he thought them up.

_No, there's no reason to thank me. I was just doing my civic duty._

Astrid started to type again.

_There must be something I can do. I would feel horribly guilty if I went without repaying you somehow, especially now that I know who you are, sort of. How about lunch on me? I'll meet you somewhere. You can order whatever you want._

And 9 seconds later:

_That's totally unnecessary. Helping humans is payment enough for me._

The woman blinked, and reread the message as though it would help her make more sense of it somehow. Yet again, his choice of words was puzzling, to say the least. Part of her became really curious about this character, and just how he became to be part of a No Cal WSAR unit. And so 6 minutes and 20 seconds later:

_Nonsense. I'll meet you at Delmonico's. Wine, steak, lobster, whatever you want, on me. Sunday at 1?_

She couldn't help but feel strange... it was as if she were doing something she wasn't supposed to, like this were a breaking some sort of code of conduct. One some level it felt wrong to face her savior in such a blunt way, but... it almost couldn't be helped, somehow.

It was several minutes before a reply came.

_Well, alright._

Astrid really wanted to know who this was that had saved her. So far, the pieces didn't quite add up. Well, what few small pieces she had to work with at least. And despite the constant calls from her family to check up on her, she elected not to tell them what she had planned in two days.

And due to her being almost unable to leave the house, those two days passed painfully slow, without another word from her bizarre and anonymous correspondent. Astrid was able to get a co-worker, Eli, to drive her to the restaurant that day.

"Give me a call when you're done, okay? I'm guessing you'll be done in two hours tops, right?"

"Sounds good to me."

He helped her out of the van, into her chair, and she proceeded to wheel inside. The receptionist, recognizing Astrid from a photo in the newspaper, immediately ushered over the manager, who proceeded to offer her a pre fixe meal on the house. The woman politely declined the offer.  
"I'm actually waiting for someone," she said. "But I'll have a glass of the house wine." Wine was brought, and Astrid waited.

In fact, she waited for half an hour, before sighing to herself and thinking just how crazy she was for getting herself into this situation. Maybe the cabin-fever was getting to her, and just as was her nature, Astrid was not content with sitting around doing nothing. After all... her affinity for the outdoors was what had gotten her injured to begin with, and now that she couldn't go out and do the things she loved, she had to go looking for a different kind of adventure. Astrid huffed as she picked up her phone and called Eli.

"Your lunch date bailed out on you?" Eli asked as he loaded up Astrid's wheelchair in the back of his van. "Good thing I was nearby."

She shrugged, even though she knew he couldn't see it. "Yeah, I guess so."

He got into the driver's seat, closed the door, and started up the car. "Did you eat?"

She shook her head.

"Well, wanna do a drive-through?"

"Sure."

With that, they rumbled off in the old bucket in the direction of a Burger King. As they pulled away from the curb, Astrid caught glimpse of a green vehicle parked behind them in the rear view mirror. It pulled away with them.

"You're awfully quiet," Eli prodded gingerly.

Astrid raised her eyebrow for a moment before bobbing her head from side to side. "Eh, just... tired. Didn't sleep well last night."

"Ah," he nodded as they pulled into the drive-thru. "Whaddya want?"  
She only glanced at the menu as an intelligible voice rasped through the speaker. "Just a number nine with clear soda, thanks."

They ordered, drove up, paid, received their food, and returned to Astrid's house, where they ate their late lunch over some small talk. Eli tried to find out who she planned on having lunch with, but she refused to reveal who. He had to return to work at 3, so there was no time to stay and hang out after lunch. At twenty til, he left, but not before making sure she didn't need anything.

Astrid found herself with a cup of coffee, looking out of the glass double doors that led to a tiny backyard, pushed up against the forest. It was somewhat of a myth that California didn't have any wildlife left, but that really only applied to the land south of Big Sur. She'd seen bears tromping around in the woods beyond the fence on one occasion, not to mention countless deer, and an assortment of other critters. Astrid sat and sipped, listening to _Natty Dread_ playing softly in the background and wondering what movies in her collection she hadn't watched yet.

But suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

The woman set down her coffee and turned herself around for a moment before wheeling over to the door. She hoped that it wasn't a journalist. "COMING!" she shouted, maneuvering over to the nearest window and peeking out. A gasp escaped her lips and she pulled the shade closed again when she saw a Jeep parked in the driveway.

Wh-... how? What?

Astrid wiped her face and ran a hand through her short hair. This was just crazy. But then again, she really did get herself into this. A deep breath, and Astrid reached into the mug on the console, producing an envelope opener. It was slipped under her leg cast; just in case. With that, she opened the door.

"Can I-" Astrid cut herself off when she saw the landing was absent of a visitor, and it also appeared that the Jeep was empty. Who had knocked? She wheeled out over the threshold, glancing about the property. "Hello?"

"Hey, uh... Astrid." The woman jumped in her wheelchair when she heard the voice. It was strange- mechanized, almost, and seemed to come from the unoccupied vehicle.

Astrid's eyes darted around a few more times. "Y..yes?" She risked wheeling out a bit more onto the walkway towards the car. "Uhm, why... why are you hiding?" It occurred to her who she was talking to. "H...Hound, right?" She dragged out the 'h', feeling quite silly to be addressing anyone as such.

"Oh, I'm not hiding. Well, not really."

Astrid knitted her eyebrows, staring at the car with puzzled scrutiny. "Well, come out of the car, then. I can't thank you if I can't see you."

"But I'm right here." And to prove his point, he turned the wheels of the Jeep back and forth a bit on the gravel of the driveway. Still, there was no driver as far as she could tell.

"Now you're just screwing with me. Look, you can come in for some coffee if you stop playing coy."

"Well... alright."

Astrid was expecting a man to straighten up in the cab of the Jeep, laugh to himself and step out, but that's not what happened. In fact, it's far from what happened. Astrid couldn't quite explain it, but the car _transformed_. Legs appeared, arms appeared, the cab split up and arranged into a torso, and finally a head popped out. "I told you I wasn't really hiding."

Astrid's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. "You..." she stumbled. "You're one of those Autobots, aren't you?"

He shrugged, and a grin spread across his white, metallic face, blue optic sensors gleaming. "And proud of it."

"Wow... well, that certainly explains why you didn't show up at the restaurant today..." She paused for a moment to look around again. "Why don't you come around back? I understand that you guys don't like to stick out like sore thumbs."

"Well, sure."

She watched in fascination as he turned and squeezed between the garage and the house to get to the backyard before turning on her wheels and going back inside. Pausing just as she closed the front door, Astrid chuckled to herself when she remembered the envelope opener under her leg: it wouldn't have done much good against metal, so she returned it to the mug.

Maneuvering about the house until she was back to where was before answering the door, mug still steaming a bit where she set it on the dining table, Astrid took a good, long sip before setting it down again and opening wide the two back doors. Hound took to sitting down on the ground.

She might've objected to that if the grass wasn't mostly comprised of patches of dirt, weeds, and crab-grass. He was idly picking at something at some joint in his hand when she realized that she didn't really know what she was doing, or what to say.

Quite frankly, she was surprised that she wasn't in hysterics. After all, she'd been hours from death when this... individual saved her.

"Would you... like some water? Or... uhm... oil? Antifreeze? Whatever it is you guys drink?"

Hound laughed politely and raised his hand in declination. "No, no, I'm alright."

An awkward silence passed.

"Look, I... wasn't really expecting this. You. I thought you were..."

"Human?"

"Well, yes." Astrid tapped the chrome rails on the wheels of her chair. "I'm really sorry. I know I've heard about your organization before, but I've never actually seen one of you, or ever expected to see one of you, face to face. I know people in the cities might not be so surprised to, but I'm not so good with machines, and things that city-slickers see every day still sometimes get a second glance from me. It's like finding a, uh... T-rex fossil in your backyard. Or a whale. They exist, but they're not part of your little life, you know? What brought you to rural northern California anyways?"

Hound seemed to genuinely find what she had to say interesting, or at least he appeared to be as interested as a machine could be. Astrid found it extremely difficult to comprehend that the Autobots were actually autonomous and sentient robots with a range of thoughts and emotions suspiciously similar to that of a human's. Coming from a family of hippies, she found it to be extremely unnatural.

"I was driving east from San Fransisco because Optimus wanted Beachcomber and I stationed in Yellowstone to help with studying the caldera there, and I heard on the radio that a young woman had gone missing while on a backpacking trip from Tahoe to Yosemite, so I volunteered to take a detour and help. It was a hard search, but once I saw the bare hillside, I knew we'd found you."

Astrid listened in silence, and said nothing when he was done. She began to imagine things from his point of view, then; images that she hadn't until that point allowed herself to entertain. The trail, the avalanche, the debris piled up at the bottom of that narrow valley, and Astrid's broken body sticking out of the bottom of it, hand clutching an empty water bottle. She remembered the blood covering her arms and face, caked especially thick on her cheek and forearms. She remembered horror settling into her gut as she groped for the last bag of almonds within reach. But perhaps most distinctly she remembered the weight of the rocks on top of her. After a while it became more than just a pile of rocks, it evolved into a symbol, a metaphor. It represented the weight of bearing the knowledge that she was going to die an agonizing death, or the imposing mass obstructing her path to freedom. Each and every stone pressed down on her as though taunting, daring her to try and reach the other compartments of her pack buried hopelessly under their weight, the compartments containing food to stave off oblivion just a little longer.

A lump of the likes she'd never felt before amassed in her throat and her eyes burned with sudden tears as she, for the first time, recalled just what had happened. How... just like that, the very wilderness she had so adored, nearly took her life.

The silent sobs that had so suddenly taken hold of Astrid caused her to slump in her wheelchair. For a moment, the world around her, Hound included, disappeared.

"Hey there..." the voice, though inhuman, somehow managed to retain a certain warmth. A large, five-fingered, articulated hand that should have weighed almost fifty pounds rested lightly on her shoulder. The lack of any other words was cause for her to open her eyes and look at a kneeling Hound, who seemed to be unable to actually conjure up anything else to say.

After what might have very well been forever, Astrid regained her composure and wiped her eyes with a sleeve. "I'm... I'm sorry," she said groggily. "I don't really know much about you Autobots, but I'm sure that was more awkward for you than it was for me." The woman forced a smile.  
The mech had moved his hand a few moments before, and the sad frown that was previously upon his face was now replaced with a small, soft, smile. "Though there are still many human behaviors beyond my understanding, I know why people cry. It's going to be okay," he reassured.

She gazed down at her hands, sighing. Her eyes still felt puffy. "I would have given you a hug if either of us were fit for the job." She gestured at him and then at her legs.

"Right," he seemed to reverently reply. "Primus, that must be terrible to be stuck in a thing like that when all you've known your whole life is how to walk upright."

Astrid let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, well... if anything, it's hard on my hands, and I'll be on crutches in a few days. Some people are completely paralyzed from the waist down, and they're in a wheelchair for the rest of their life. But... using wheels as well as legs is just second nature to you, isn't it?"

Hound seemed to consider this. "In a sense... but it is somewhat of a learned ability. Kind of like..." he paused here, most likely searching for a human equivalent. "Kind of like when you learn how to swim, right?"

The woman nodded, understanding what he was trying to say. "I suppose. But we don't need to rearrange our bodies in order to swim, though."

Her companion went from kneeling to sitting then, and his smile spread. "No, you don't. But it's still a completely different sort of locomotion."

She considered this. "You're right. Walking is a continuous breaking of a fall, and swimming is propelling yourself through water, using four limbs rather than two."

"Now that's the one thing very few of us can do," he said. "Swim."

The two continued to chat for some time. They flitted between the subject of Bob Marley, which played unobtrusively in the background for the next half hour or so, to Astrid's aching arms, to Hound's function as an Autobot scout. It was a humble duty as he rarely found himself on the front lines, but he treasured the freedom it gave. Being stationed in Yellowstone was, in fact, quite possibly one of the best things to happen to Hound since the beginning of the war.

Astrid compared it to her own job as a mountaineering guide: "It's not work if you love what you do."

"You know," she said, studying what to her was an alien, mechanical body. "I didn't think any of you could... appreciate nature. At least in the same way a human might." He knew the woman sensed she was treading on potentially dangerous ground, but the statement meant no offense to him.

Hound folded his arms over his chest and looked down at her. "It's very much the same as a human's capacity to appreciate technology. Or math. Or those little vacuum cleaners that people like to think of as pets."

"Roombas?"

"Yeah, like Roombas." He paused here for an astrosecond. "And isn't _everything _in the natural world, including yourself, a machine in a sense? You're a biological machine, just like these trees, your feline companion, and the entire ecosystem of this region. This planetary system, this galaxy, are cosmic machines. We are all machines... I just happen to be an inorganic one. Everything is math. We all operate under the same laws of physics, after all."

"You like thinking about this stuff, don't you? That almost sounded rehearsed," she chuckled.

Hound averted his eyes and rubbed his fingers against the plating on the back of his head. "Well, I uh... you know... I've got lots of time to myself and all..."

Astrid laughed. "It's alright, I do the same thing. Nature is my life, and it definitely gives me time to think. I know some people don't like when they have time to continuously mull over things because it just gets them depressed, but it gives me peace of mind."

The mech considered this. "Me too. I know of some 'bots that wouldn't know what to do with themselves if they actually had time to think." He paused for a moment, then broke out in a light chuckle. Then under his breath: "In fact, I could name a few that seem to have forgotten how to think altogether."

Astrid snorted. "Can't we all."

The two remained for a few moments in what almost felt like a contented silence between them. Her ears heard the birds then, the rustle of something in the trees behind her backyard. A woodpecker off in the distance, the windchimes hanging from her neighbor's porch.

It was then that the woman noted, upon a longer, less schematic sweep of the giant robot seated on her dirt, that the two glossy panels some inches below the bright olive of his helmet, were not as she thought she remembered them from a few moments before. And without such respiratory obligations as a human, it was difficult to tell... but it seemed to her that he was "off", if that was at all possible for an organism like Hound.

The world was suddenly made of glass; she found it difficult to break the silence, but after a few moments she was able to make a sound. "Are you alright?" she ventured, almost sure the glass would break under the weight of her cumbersome ignorance. Eyes, listless as of late, roved around the sleek contours of his face.

His eyes woke up. Binocular optic sensors, previously a silky, lifeless gray, came to life. A short look at her and Hound's faintly luminous eyes turned to the glass world around them. "Just listening to the birds."

The glass melted away, revealing trees, chainlink fence, weeds, haphazardly set pavers, garage, and house. She smiled and ran a hand through her hair. "It's why I love it up here. Couldn't stand living in Sacramento, even if it meant being close to family." A pause here, though it was not meant to last forever. "It's been real hard not being able to do anything for the past two weeks," she lamented, her voice softening, as though she'd been defeated. "And it's going to be weeks more before I can even _think_about hitting the trails again."

Hound thought here. "How about you and I go investigate some back roads tomorrow?" Then he grinned. "I'll drive?"

"Really? I thought you needed to be in Wyoming with... with..."

"Beachcomber? Oh, he'll be alright for a little longer. He likes being alone anyways."

It was something of an unconscious sense of relief that came over her then. Astrid was being freed from her prison. Even if she would be on somewhat of a leash, and only for a few hours.

"You... would do that for me?"

Hound knelt in a bit closer, loosely weaving his large fingers together. "I want to set you down the course of feeling better," he stated, as though it was the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. "And that includes mental health. It'll be good for your noggin to get out for a little bit, I think. Moreover, I seem to like the outdoors as much as you, so it's absolutely no problem. I'd love to go."

Either the wheelchair seemed a little unstable, or the cement slab of a back porch she was positioned on was uneven. Regardless of which, though, Astrid felt it necessary to reach for the rails on her wheels and hold them so she wouldn't lose her balance.

"Thank you very much, Hound. You have no idea how much this means to me."

The smile, though lessened at times, never fully disappeared over the past few minutes. "I think I may. What time should I pick you up?"

"I, uh... ten?" Far less than composed. "Can I bring music?"

"Of course. It'll give me a chance to try out my new CD player."

Astrid laughed dumbly. "All right then. Ten it is?"

"Ten it is."

She watched in thinly veiled wonder as he rose up on a pair of legs taller than her, were she able to stand. He treaded lightly when exiting the backyard, flashing one more benign grin before disappearing behind the house. As soon as he was out of sight, Astrid turned on her wheels and headed back into the house with the first burst of adrenaline she'd felt since the avalanche. Dodging furniture with something just short of expert maneuverability, Astrid raced back to the forefront of her house to peek through the window by the door, just catching the tail end of Hound's transformation back into Jeep. Without a second to spare, he'd started his engine and was carefully heading down the driveway.

Astrid turned from the pane of glass and sat in her chair. The house seemed very dark and quiet just then; not foreboding, but like it was holding its breath. The sun had almost gone down, and the world outside was growing darker as well. She would have to turn on some lights or risk being swallowed by the pitch. The young woman considered going to sleep, but she knew it would take all too long to succumb to the blissful oblivion.

And with that in mind, she wheeled over to the living room and to her music collection. Turning on a single side lamp, Astrid perused the spines of the jewel cases, plucking out one: _Fragile_.  
Jon Anderson would help her figure out what had just happened, and hopefully help calm her down.


	2. Roundabout

_In regards to continuity nameless reviewer, it's a heavily modified G1 as you'll soon see.  
_

* * *

At 8 o'clock sharp the following morning, Astrid's alarm began to mouth off. With an acute smack of her hand, the small, single-minded electronic was successfully shut up. She rose to greet the morning rather clumsily-sleep had been harder to come by that night.

Sliding into her chair with the grace of a hippopotamus, Astrid wheeled herself over to the bathroom in preparation for the long, arduous task of getting showered and changed. She was careful to avoid complaining to herself yet again at how difficult it was to do anything with a full leg cast and knee brace.

But her cheery mood was suddenly dampened when something occurred to her: this accident would likely mean the end of her job. Disability would stop when she could walk again, and the pressure to quit her position at the small company would be there if she wasn't flat-out let go anyways. Moreover, it just wouldn't be right for her to assume her previous job right after recovery. She would still be physically compromised for months to come, and to have strangers rely on her for tours and hikes in that state wouldn't be right.

But she would deal with that when the phone call came. Today she would be happy.

It was 9:42 when she was finished getting showered and dressed. Astrid was only mildly disappointed that she wasn't yet able to wear anything but loose sweatpants. Her left foot was still tender, but it had long since returned to normal from its likeness to a blue and purple grapefruit. She tentatively slipped a sock and shoe on that one. As for her right foot? Astrid begrudgingly strapped the black apparatus her doctor loosely referred to as a "shoe" over her cast, though it more resembled a dog's harness.

At a quarter to ten, the young woman reached the kitchen to eat a quick breakfast and pack herself water and something to eat, not quite sure how long they would be gone. Clif bars were a favorite. She threw three of those into a small bag alongside two bottles of water. With a small bowl of cereal in her lap, Astrid headed to go fetch her CD case at 9:55 and proceeded to inhale the remainder of her breakfast. She was finished brushing her teeth at 9:59, and a polite little honk sounded at precisely 10:01.

Astrid suddenly didn't much want to go on a drive. Setting the leather CD case in her lap, she maneuvered over to the same window she'd peered out of the evening before to see the individual she'd so pestered into receiving her gratitude. And there he (it?) was, waiting patiently in the driveway. Astrid watched him for a few moments, and found it extremely curious when he shut off his engine after little more than 15 seconds. Did Hound, a machine, know better than to leave himself idling?

A hand, now slightly calloused from being used to propel the wheelchair, grabbed a ring of keys on the console beside the door, and held them firmly. The right hand resolutely reached for the front door, and with the efforts of the limb it was attached to, opened it wide. A pleasant breeze (and very mid-spring in nature) meandered through the opening to inspect her house. Astrid obliged with a light smile, rolling over the threshold and onto the landing. She dutifully turned around to close and lock the door.

The young woman looked at the Jeep parked not 6 feet from where she sat. It suddenly occurred to her that this was real- much more real than her previous encounter with him. Yesterday had been nothing more than a surreal dream. But this... this was firmly anchored in the realm of linear thinking: of past, present, sight, smell, touch, taste, hearing, and consequence. In fact, this was possibly the most real she'd felt since the accident.

As she looked at the vehicle more though, she was beginning to do something strange. She was anthropomorphizing it. Astrid was trying to remember where his arms came from, or what parts of the Jeep made up his legs... but his transformation was just a jumble in her mind. Despite knowing that the front grille became his chest, she saw that as his face now. The round headlights were eyes... and the more she looked, the more it seemed that they were coyly looking her way.

"Something wrong?"

To say the voice startled her was an understatement. In fact, she hadn't been expecting it at all for some reason. Astrid's brain had it that she was surveying a car, not a living being. Her heart rate jumped and she grew hot in the face; she conjured up a smile to try and hide the flush.

"Nothing, sorry. I was just zoning out."

Astrid carefully navigated down the small, wooden ramp Ray had built for her some weeks ago so she could get up and down from that single step. She paused just out of arm's reach of the passenger side door, studying it. The part of her mind responsible for logic and reason informed her that this car was still the same Hound she'd met yesterday. This was still him; he just looked different. That was all. His arms and his legs and his hands and his face were not recognizable in this form, that was all. He _was _the car.

Christ, why was that concept so difficult to accept?

"...zoning out again?" His pause was very brief. "Or did you need help getting in?"

Astrid made a small noise when the Jeep moved, and not on its wheels either. The very frame of the vehicle shifted lightly, something like someone tilting their head to the side during a conversation.

She let out a strained laugh, as the action had almost caused her to fall backward onto the pavement. "I, uh... if... if you mind... not doing that again..."

"Doing what again?" Hound's near disembodied voice asked meekly.

"M...moving like that. It's really weird, I'm sorry." Astrid raked fingers through her hair and laughed a bit more to show that she wasn't trying to be mean.

The car sagged down. "Oh... I'm sorry. I'll try not to." After trying to reason with herself that she was doing nothing but entering a vehicle, she reached forward to grasp the handle of the door, but was again interrupted. "Here, let me get that for you." With a dull click, the door carefully opened. Again she jumped, but she tried to ignore it. He was just trying to be polite after all.

"Thanks," was her knee-jerk response, though it was audibly as strained as her laughter. She gazed about the cabin of the Jeep. It was spacious and looked very little like the rugged exterior. From the looks of it, the upholstery was relatively new, as well as the sound system. In fact, everything seemed to be pretty up-to-date. Then again, she didn't think he often had passengers to rub their dirty paws all over the place.

Astrid tossed the CDs onto the driver's seat and then got to pondering how to get into her own seat. "Hound... would you mind lowering yourself a bit so I can get up in there?" The brutally factual thought that she was climbing up into a cavity in his body was almost... repulsive. But she pushed it aside and hoped she would get used to the idea.

"Sure thing."

With that the body of the car sunk down as low as possible on his shocks. Much better. "Thank you."

With a mighty push of her arms, Astrid hoisted herself up into the seat without a second thought to elegance. She reached up to grab the handle just above the door and used that to pull herself up and over into the seat. When that was through, she reached down to collapse her wheelchair and wedge it into the back seat. A small huff escaped the young woman for her labors, and Hound politely closed the door for her, returning to his normal height again. The engine started, and with it surprisingly enough, the radio.

"Whoops," he chuckled, almost embarrassed, and switched off the music. She noted that his voice sounded very different from inside. "We don't need that... Here. why don't you put on some of your music?" Just then the stereo turned back on, and he switched from the radio to CD. Astrid, feeling a little more comfortable with him (though still trying to avoid pondering just what part of him she was sitting on), reached for the black leather case and zipped it open. She flipped through the plastic sleeves, and decided on a disc.

"6-CD changer, hm?" she noted aloud as she slipped the CD into the slot. She half expected something extraordinary to happen, but just like any other car stereo, it sunk in with a few clicks and whirs, and in no time at all, music began to play softly. "Now where exactly does a giant robot go to get stuff like that?"

The Jeep chuckled. "Best Buy?" They were just a block away from her house now, and he'd come to a soft halt before at the request of a stop sign's silent authority. "You mind if I pull up a holoform so people won't get suspicious? I'll take it down soon as we get to the dirt roads."

"Pull up a what?"

"Lemme show you."

Astrid glanced around the cab, not exactly sure she was looking for. Just then, however, a figure appeared in the driver's seat, meriting a startled yelp from Hound's human passenger.

"Who... is... that's not you, is it?" She stumbled over her words as she stared at the newcomer. Eyes darted from one part of him to another, and she knew something was wrong with him right off the bat. He... lacked definition.

"Go on," said the Jeep with mirth. "Touch it."

Astrid's eyes searched the dashboard, as though she would find his grinning face there somewhere. "Why," she said flatly. "What's going to happen."

He broke out into a laugh. "Just do it. Watch."

Cautiously, slowly, she reached out her hand to touch the relatively static figure sitting next to her. Fingers hovered inches from his shoulder when she hesitated. The man -he looked enough like a man at any rate- was of average height, weight, and build, it seemed. He sat with his right arm resting stiffly on the steering wheel, the other one idly fingering a toothpick caught between his teeth. His eyes, fixed ahead, were hidden behind a dark pair of sunglasses and partially under the brim of a worn leather cowboy hat.

He was completely oblivious to her existence.

Taking a deep breath, Astrid willed her hand to touch him. The appendage closed the last few inches between it and the black cotton of his sleeve, and... felt nothing.

"Gyah!" she exclaimed, yanking her hand out of the driver's arm like a child touching a hot stove. He remained chewing on the toothpick and staring out over the dash. "What _is _that?"

Hound was laughing as soon as she'd recoiled. Only the gentle weight of inertia told her he'd left the intersection behind and was headed for the main road. "He's a hologram, that's all. Just for a few minutes while we pass through the more high traffic areas. Then I'll promise he'll be good as gone."

She turned away from the disturbing facade of a driver and instead looked out the window to her right. "You have a destination in mind?" she asked the glass beside her cheek.

"How about the old logging road off of Timber Drive?"

Astrid thought for a moment. "Oh, yeah, that's a nice area."

There was a short interlude here, as the young woman shifted her broken leg a bit and listened with fascination anew to the thrum of the Jeep's engine. She was trying her very hardest to see if anything sounded out of place, or... alien. But as far as she could tell, at any rate, it sounded like nothing more than a car.

"So Astrid," he said, mechanized voice filling the space from an unseen source. "When I was looking you up to see how you were doing a while ago there... I found out that your father is Lee Schneider?"

"Ah," she chuckled. "Yes. That's my dad."

"I really admire his work."

"Really... well, I'll be sure to let him know when he gets back from the Great Lakes." She allowed herself to dwell on her father for a bit. He was a photographer, somewhat famous in the art and environmental communities, as his favorite subjects included landscapes and remote environments. He often did jobs for magazines and other freelance work on the side, both usually requiring much travel on his part. It honestly surprised her that Hound knew the man by name.

"Were you... able to see him after the accident?" His tone was soft and unsure.

The young woman smiled a little to herself. "The day I was released from the hospital."

"Oh, good. I'm glad to hear it." Relief.

Astrid listened to the last stanza of _Take It Eas y_blend gently in with the hum of the Jeep.

Avoiding the face of Hound's hologram, she twisted around in her seat to get a closer look at his interior, searching for any trace of the robot she'd met yesterday.

"You alright, there?" he mirthfully probed. At that, she turned around and began to carefully search the console. "Whatcha looking for?"

"I'm looking for your eyes," she said matter-of-factly. Her fingers ran over the smooth plastic buttons in charge of the heat, AC, and radio, attentively reading every bit of text and every symbol stamped on them. After a while, she sat back in her seat.

Hound chuckled. "Want a hint?"

She smiled and shook her head. "I give up."

"Haha, well if it's any consolation, you didn't find any eyes 'cause I don't have any in this form, per se."

"Then how the heck can you see what I'm doing?" Astrid furrowed her brow. "Or _drive_ for that matter?"

"Oh, don't worry. I've got plenty of other sensors to tell me what's goin' on."

"Hm." Astrid thought about this for a moment, before getting a rather silly idea. "Can you feel that?" she asked, jabbing at the armrest.

"Yep."

She reached forward to turn the temperature dial back and forth. "That?"

"Mhm."

She knocked on the passenger side window. "This?"

"Sure can."

The young woman could tell from his chipper tone that some part of him was smiling somewhere, so she decided to continue the game.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."  
She covered her hand with the bottom of her shirt this time. "How about now?"

"Two."

"Now that's just creepy," she said, removing her hand.

Hound laughed, and she could feel the vehicle move a bit with the sound, an unintentional reminder that he was not just a disembodied voice. "Density scanners, of course. A quick sweep of ya was all I needed."

Astrid shifted in her seat a bit, some part of her a little weirded out by the concept. She brushed it off easily enough though. "That so."

"Yep," he said, and proceeded to retract the sunroof. A gust of warm air swirled about the Jeep's cab, mingling with the lyrics of _Life in the Fast Lane_. "So you like the Eagles, eh?"

"I love the Eagles," she said with a smile. "And basically all classic rock."

"Journey?"

Astrid laughed. "Who doesn't like Journey?"

Just then, the Eagles stopped abruptly, and was replaced with the famous opening lines: "_Any way you want it, that's the way you need it, any way you want it..._" Hound cranked up the volume and rolled down both passenger side windows, letting the wind carry the music out and into the trees pressing up to the side of the road. The young woman managed to suppress her fits of laughter just in time to begin belting it out with Steve Perry.

A refreshing three and a half minutes later, Hound turned off from the main road and onto Timber Drive. And just as he'd promised, the holographic driver fizzled away into nothing. She breathed a silent sigh of relief as they were once again left with the Eagles in the background. She draped her arm out of the open window, feeling the wind push against her open palm as they continued on the winding incline.

"I don't know much about you robots," she admitted out of nowhere. "I've seen a few things in the news, and there are photos on the internet of some of your more... prominent members." She paused here, and noticed that Hound had slowed down a small amount when she began talking. "I'd... like to know more, though."

"What would you like to know?" he asked, gaining his previous speed once again.

"Well... first off... why do you turn into a Jeep?" Astrid feared she was overlooking something very obvious.

The vehicle underneath her moved a bit of its own accord again when he chuckled. "It's a long story..."

"I think we've got time."

"Well, alright."

He proceeded to tell her that he and the Autobots were of alien origin, their ship having crash landed into the side of Mount St. Helens thousands of years ago. The Autobots had been attacked while on an emergency survey of the planet, and the ensuing battle resulted in the stranding of both sides on Earth. The impact caused the crew to go into stasis until the volcano's famous 1980 eruption, which shook the on-board computer, Teletraan-1, to life. It sent out a minuscule probe that gathered data on local machines before spending the next few years reformatting the stasis-locked Autobots, one by one. They were finally onlined in '84. After spending some time repairing the ship and turning it into some semblance of a base of operations, they desperately needed energy and so ventured to excavate themselves out of the side of the collapsed mountain. Seeing the planet was now inhabited by a dominant intelligent species, the crew was very hesitant about leaving before learning more of the small organics that called themselves humans. For the next 5 years, they remained hidden in the volcano, gathering information about Earth, avoiding curious geologists and surveyors, and sneaking out for energy just often enough to keep them out of stasis. They had planned on revealing themselves someday, but they were waiting for the perfect time. If they came out too soon, any relations that might have been possible would have also been much harder to establish. Unfortunately, they were not allowed the luxury of passivity for very long. In '89, they were given a tremendous wake-up call in the form of a Decepticon attack on a power plant near Portland...

"And the rest, as humans say, is history."

Astrid was floored. It was quite a tremendous tale that he'd just told her, and she suspected that it wasn't something members of their ranks blabbed to just anyone.

"How..." she began, still trying to sort through the information and what it meant. "How do more people not know about you? I would think that there would be tabloid magazines for you guys, or newscasters following you around all the time."

"Your government does a very good job at keeping us out of the spotlight for the most part, and we do our best not to interfere with your daily lives, unless it's an emergency or something."

Her head rocked back and forth in a slow nod. "Like your working with WSAR?"

"Right. Another example would be Seaspray and Powerglide: they like working with the Pacific Coast Guard. Of course, there'll always be conspiracy theorists out there, too. Did you know there's a whole community of people that believe the Autobots and Decepticons are military experiments gone awry? Some have even gone so far as to link us to the terrorist attacks in New York."

The young woman would have laughed, but it really _was _no laughing matter. "There are so many crazy people out there that like to point fingers. I don't doubt it. There's a whole group who like to believe the moon was built by the Illuminati or something." She paused here, a smile on her lips. "You know, I remember doing research about you after getting released from the hospital..."

"Research!" he said. The vehicle drew up on his shocks as he said this. "Why'd you want to research _me_?"

"Well, I knew something was off about the rescue, so I asked my doctor if he knew anything about the people that brought me in. He said he heard that off-road vehicle was tailing the ambulance up to the ER parking lot, more or less. So I went online after being released, and after too many hours of digging through forums and articles in obscure outdoor magazines, I found three people who'd claimed a Jeep had been involved in their rescue."

Hound chuckled here, meriting a smile from his passenger.

"The first I came across was a man who was stranded somewhere in the Cascades, near Mount Bachelor, I think. The forum post I saw had a lot of replies, but he said little on the subject himself aside from claiming to have seen a mechanized member of the unit."

"Don Fuller," he said with mirth. "That man insisted I be repaid with a car wash and full detailing twice a month for the rest of the year."

"You're serious?"

"Dead serious. It was actually a very nice gift... I didn't have to deal with Ratchet's scolding after a drive through the mud." A pause. "Ratchet's our medic, by the way."

She nodded and gazed out the window for a moment. They'd made it out onto the dirt logging road a few minutes before, and were now officially free of any previous restraint that the pavement might have warranted. "What about Ryan Manning?"

The Jeep shuddered. "Got his leg caught in an old bear trap and had been stuck out there for two days too long. I was the only one who could pry it off then and there... poor guy, I think he got gangrene and had to suffer through an amputation." If there was something odd in his voice then, she didn't notice.

Astrid's face contorted in a hard wince. Infection was something she was eternally grateful for having avoided during the early stages of healing. She'd been ushered into surgery very soon after arriving at the hospital to set her twisted leg back in place, drain her hematomas, and control the hemorrhaging in her abdomen. Thank god her bones, though thoroughly trashed, had opted to remain _inside _the realm of muscle tissue for the most part.

"God, yeah... you should always be careful of where you step, especially when navigating underbrush like that. And trust me: if it's not rusty bear traps, it's snakes, or even holes that will sprain your ankle in a snap (no pun intended)." She thought for a moment here, and decided that she was somewhat bitter at her predicament. "You're lucky you don't have to worry about things like snakes and traps." Astrid would have added 'avalanches' to that short list, but she didn't actually want to make him feel bad.

"Well, you don't have to worry about things like sand in your joints and sinking to the bottoms of lakes," he countered.

Oh, what had she started? This argument could go on forever. The list of human maladies and conditions was seemingly endless. "Touche," the young woman wisely decided.

They continued the drive, and Astrid draped herself out the window, feeling the fresh air on her face. She tried to touch the thick foliage flanking the road for a few moments, and just as she was about to pull her arm back in, Hound slowed minutely and leaned to the right shoulder, as if to bring the greenery within reach for her. The leaves softly brushing against her fingertips brought a smile to her face. Astrid brought her arm to rest on the window, placing her chin on them and letting her hair mingle with the breeze. This was so much nicer than the torturous confinement of her own house. Cabin fever had taken its toll; she'd watched every good movie she owned already, resorting to daytime TV and aimlessly surfing the internet for almost a week. She cooked when she felt up for the challenge, and the well-earned rewards were usually guests to help her polish off the meal.

But this was a refreshing change. The sound of dirt and gravel under the Jeep's tires would have never sounded more beautiful in her life.

Astrid closed her eyes and rested lazily on the door, fingers gently tapping the exterior to the rhythm of the music playing in the background. She remained like that for a minute or so, then the album ended, and she rose up to replace it.

"Do you like Boston?"

The vehicle slowed a little, and she read it as him thinking. "Can't say, really. I've never been there before..."

Laughter bubbled out of her. "No, no... Boston the _music group_." She heard his engine stutter the tiniest bit.

"Oh!" he said. "Right... sure, I like them!" Astrid flipped through the plastic sleeves of the case and found the CD she was looking for. The Jeep slowed a small amount as they came upon an incline, and she felt him shift gears. "You know," he said, appending his previous statement, though it was in a meeker, almost tender, tone. "You can play whatever music you want to. Don't worry about me."

She twisted up her face for a brief moment before smiling at the console. The ejected disc delicately eased onto her finger, and she hesitated replacing it. "I thought asking the driver what he wants to listen to was just common courtesy," she teased.

"Oh, I have faith in your musical tastes." There was a wink in his voice.

Boston's _Don't Look Back _began to play when they cleared the top of the rise, and Hound slowed to a gentle halt. Out before them was the view of a valley, some hundred feet below, bright with young grass and aflame with poppies. Beyond that, and fading into the distance, were more mountains, the highest shadows of which were still white with snow.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she said reverently.

Hound pulled up farther to allow for the best view, and came to rest on something of a turnout from the dirt road, where he set himself in park and dampened the sound of his engine. All there was to hear was the breeze brushing into the cab and mingling with the music.

"It is..."

"Mind if we sit here for a few minutes?"

"Not at all."


	3. Over the Hills and Far Away

It was beautiful.

All the windows were rolled down and doors open; he wanted Astrid to feel as though she were genuinely outside. Not to mention just how good it felt to have the warm spring breeze brush against just as much of his cab as his exterior.

Hound was glad that he was able to come up and take nothing more than a leisurely drive. That he was able to enjoy today on his own terms, temporarily relieved from the pressures of duty or the stress of working with the search and rescue unit, was just such a blessing. Not to mention that he was helping someone else just by doing what he loved to do: being outside.

Astrid... when he thought over what had happened to her some weeks before, it was difficult to comprehend just what she'd gone through during those days alone. Humans, by their very nature, were fragile creatures. A pile of rocks to him would have been nothing; maybe a little time to dig himself out, but he wouldn't have ended up with anything more than scratched paint and a few dents. To her, though... Hound could only imagine what she felt. A whole slew of adjectives presented themselves to him then. Things like 'determination' and 'terror'. But it had to be far more complex than just that: she was stuck there for days, and without fuel, her body was beginning to cannibalize itself. Stores of fat went first, and then muscle tissue. From what he knew of human physiology, Hound allowed himself to entertain that she was capable of lasting far longer without food if her body wasn't busy fighting off infection in her open wounds, or if she even had more water for that matter. It was all extremely complicated, and he wasn't as versed in the subject as he would have liked to be.

Unfortunately, dwelling on these things dampened his mood, and he didn't want that. He wanted to watch the clouds pass by, and the poppies sway, and the birds dart over the meadow. He also wanted to watch his passenger.

As he was turning all his various sensor arrays everywhere, though, he heard her voice from inside.

"You never answered my question," she asked him. Human voices never ceased to amaze him... they sounded just so... smooth. He found that he could compare many of them to natural phenomena, like rivers, or gravel, or breezes. When he thought about it, hers reminded him of driving on a road... covered in freshly fallen leaves. His? Hound was not so proud of his.

"What question?" There it was. That grating sound emitted from his vocal processors.

She laughed a small amount, and he could feel it. It shook her frame; small jolts originating deep within her chest. "You never told me why you turn into a Jeep." He was going to reply, but suspected that she wasn't done. "I mean, I don't really understand what make and model you are either... I think it says you're a Cherokee on the side there? But... it seems like you've got all the _veni, vidi, vici_ of a Wrangler and something else."

Hound didn't know what veni, vidi, vici meant, but all it took was a short internet search to find out. And the results brought a mild frown to his proverbial face. "Conquer?" he asked of he small organic occupying his cab. "To go and see, yes... but I have no desire to conquer anything."

There was an abrupt change in Astrid's heat signature and she shifted a little in the seat. "Well, I mean, that's what the Wrangler is sort of known for... they're built to go and tear up the road, climb rocks, plow through mud and such." He felt her shrug. "To conquer the outdoors."

Now, in all of his years here on Earth, working alongside its people, the mech was never able to understand the human fascination with microcosmic dominion over the natural world. In all of his perusals of hiking and outdoor sportsman magazines, the undertone was always there, hidden in the words. Whether it was a simple walk on a well-beaten forest path, or a grueling climb up a twelve-story cliff face, it was always about challenging nature. Humans pushing themselves to be better than it.

Why was coexistence never good enough?

As a tracker, he'd become reasonably well-versed in Earth's ways over the years. And he found that simply existing with it was enough for him. Nature wasn't there to be cut down and leveled, no! In fact, it wasn't there for anything but itself, and to experience it peacefully was a gift.

"It doesn't always have to be about domination," he said, and realized a little too late that she wasn't aware of the train of thought that brought him to such a conclusion. Hound saw her knit her eyebrows and jerk her chin back about an inch toward her neck.

"Who said anything about domination?"

Underneath the confusion, there was a tiny trace of defensiveness in Astrid's tone.

"Well, I er..." he was struggling for words that wouldn't offend her on behalf of her race. "I mean, from what I know of humans... I've always felt that you, as a people, always feel the need to control." He paused to gauge her reaction. "And though I understand why you feel that way toward many aspects of your life, considering your very circumstance of being human, I just don't get why it has to be that way with nature too." He sighed here, sinking down on his shocks, and noticed (not for the first time) that his passenger flinched when he did so. Then Hound swung the front passenger door, the one closest to Astrid (who jumped in her seat), wide open, revealing a completely unobstructed view of the meadow and mountains to her. The gesture, a stand-in for a wide sweep of his arm, was only meant to punctuate his point, though. "Earth is a beautiful, beautiful planet, and I've come to love it more than my home. But in all my study of humans' interaction with it, it saddens me to know that outdoor sportsmen are always out to win. Is that the only way that your people can experience such a beautiful thing as this?"

Hound wasn't sure if he was successful in the articulation of his feelings, but he felt that the subject was a delicate one, and so decided to stop babbling like Bluestreak and let her think about what he said before making a fool of himself.

Astrid sat there and looked out over the mountains, making no motion to close the door. She remained like that for some time: completely silent and relatively still. He trained his sensor net into the seat she was seated in, curiously studying her weight, the curvature of her spine, the roughness of her cast as it brushed against the upholstery, committing it to memory.

"I've never actually thought of it like that before," she said at considerable length.

He would have said something if he knew just what to say, but the sentence was not so much a thing open to discussion as it was a soft, yet staunch, declaration. The mech waited for her to finish. After some time, Hound noticed that she was emitting a little more body heat now, and had still gone without elaborating on her opinion.

"If you disagree," he gently ventured. "You can say it. I'd love nothing more than to be wrong about this."  
"I... I do disagree with you. I'm just not sure why."

The honest reply threw him. Though, when he thought about it, it did make sense. Perhaps the answer lay somewhere in her core programming? The kind of programming she didn't have conscious access to?

"You..." she began a minute or so later. "You said that you crashed your ship into the side of Mount Saint Hilary thousands of years ago. That means you have the potential to live for a very long time, right?"

Hound wanted to nod, but knew he couldn't. "Well, yes..."

"I'm sure you know, but... humans don't live so long. We each have about a century, give or take (mostly take), to accomplish all that we seek to accomplish in this life. And the fact that the only certain thing about death is that it comes is a difficult thing for many people to cope with. Humans, by their very nature, have these expiration dates." Astrid paused: making sure she was going in the right direction. "What would you do if you had a timer hooked up to your arm, and had to look at it every day? If you could count down the years you had left to do, see, and experience? Or worse: what if all of the things you wanted to do couldn't be done before that timer ran out? How would you feel?"

The Jeep faltered. "I... hadn't thought of it like that before."

"Most people don't have time to sit and watch the clouds for as long as you can, Hound. Me, I loved it so much that I made it an official career move so that I could have that time. But what about all of the other things I may have wanted to do? I'd always been interested in taking up photography like my dad, or becoming a veterinarian, or a firefighter, or a foley artist." She paused here and sighed, and Hound noticed that her body heat was not like it was before. "I don't think it's about conquering nature," Astrid said, her voice softer than a moment ago. "I think it's about humans testing the limits of their mortality. By challenging the world do we experience it, and when we triumph over that small, minuscule task that we set for ourselves... it's like saying "_**Fuck you**_... for making me so fleeting. I climbed this rock, or hiked this mountain, or swam this gulf, and I beat you. For now, I am the winner. For now, I am immortal, and that brings me one step closer to being a part of your perfection." You know... I guess maybe this does mean I agree with you. Maybe it is about conquest. I don't know how it is with giant robots, but I know I can't nourish myself by admiring food: I need to eat it."

Hound sat in silence, pondering everything she's said. It was just then that he felt more alienated from humans than he ever had before, though he prided himself on being able to understand them on a level that other Autobots hadn't even bothered to achieve.

The rift between humans and Cybertronians seemed so very wide now- almost impassible. Humans, as he now understood, were imprisoned by the linear progression of time; their mortality weighing upon every aspect of their lives, whether they wanted to acknowledge it or not. It pained him to entertain what it might be like to have 90 Terran cycles to live. He knew that he wouldn't have all the time in the world to look at the clouds if that were so... he would feel the need to be among them in order to experience their beauty in less time. Had he finally managed to catch a glimpse of the elusive, but ever-present "human condition"?

And then it occurred to Hound that maybe he shouldn't be burdening himself with such thoughts. As sad as it made him feel, there was nothing that he could do about it. He couldn't even fully appreciate what she was saying for lack of being human too. As vividly as he tried to simulate the situation in his CPU, he knew that he would fall short of the true emotion surrounding such a thing, because all the imagination in the universe could not change what he was. And suddenly, the gap grew small again.

"I'm... sorry if I ruined the mood, here," Astrid said meekly.

Hound physically sighed- he rose up on his suspension system a few inches before sinking back down again to remind her where he was."You didn't ruin anything."

She smiled a little. "Thanks." Then: "I... I don't know where all of that came from."

"I don't either, but I'm glad you told me. I understand you better now. I mean, as a race."

"Hound, I am by no means a fair representation of humanity. No one person is."

"I think you're quite fair."

She fidgeted and looked out the open door.

_Now if you're feeling kind of low about the dues you've been paying_  
_Future's coming much too slow_  
_And you wanna run but somehow you just keep on staying_  
_Can't decide on which way to go_

"Would you like to keep going?" he asked. Astrid looked back over the console, still on some unconscious level convinced that she would find his face there. "The road, I mean."  
She nodded. "Sure."

Making sure that she was sufficiently inside, he carefully closed the door and started up the engine again. Soon, he felt the crunching of gravel under his tires and was slowly navigating the old dirt road once again, heading in the direction of those mountains in the distance.


	4. The Way Out is the Way In

_I'd just like to take the time to thank all of you who reviewed: thanks, all of you! Haha. Anyways, I should note that, despite this being something of a romance, no one is ever going to mention the word "love" in this story. I don't like the stigma that goes along with that word, and it just doesn't fit the themes I've presented here._

_Also, sorry, but the title to this chapter isn't actually the song title, but the first line. The actual title is kind of dumb._

* * *

"You know, it's funny..." he ventured after several minutes of silence in his cab. Astrid was in the middle of replacing the music with a Jimi Hendrix album, letting the disc slide in. "I never actually did tell you why this is my alternate mode."

Hound felt her settle back into the seat.

"You're right... you didn't." She still seemed a little quieter after their discussion earlier. He paused, taking careful inventory of where her arms were resting. "Well?" the woman said with a smile. "I'm waiting for this great reveal."

The Jeep chuckled, half with his vocalizer and half with his engine. He found it funny that they should have discussed so much in the past 2 hours from asking that question, and despite the answer being stupidly simple, it still hadn't been answered. "I like exploring, so I picked an appropriate car."

There was a pause before Astrid burst out laughing. "That's it? That's the only reason?"  
A smirk manifested itself in his processors. "Well, there's that, and also... you know... those shirts and bumper stickers for Jeep owners..."

"What bumper stickers and shirts?" she asked with mirthful caution, eying the console with a single raised brow. "I don't own one, so I wouldn't know."

"Oh... just the ones that proudly declare their owners drive them naked."

Astrid laughed heartily. "Well... shame you don't have an owner!"

"Haha, you never know. I might find myself a bond mate _someday._"

He could feel her fidget. "A bond mate? You mean like a spouse?"

"Well..." Hound shifted gears to tackle the sudden incline. "It's not so much like marriage, which is a social and legal bond more than anything. It may be difficult for you to understand, but a spark bond's more... psychological."

"Spark?"

The jeep surveyed the winding road ahead. "A spark is the... physical manifestation of a Transformer's life force. Extinguish it, and you extinguish us."

Astrid gasped silently, though her mouth was still ajar. "Wow," she said quietly. Then: "So if it physically exists somewhere, then where is it?"

"Right now it's subspaced. But in robot mode, it's located pretty deep in my chest. You have to be a medic or have a big gun to get to it," he said mirthfully.

"I feel like such an idiot right now, asking so many questions-"

"Nah. Asking questions just means you're curious. And there's nothing wrong with that, right?"  
She shrugged and looked out the window. He felt her hand brush against the armrest, and decided that her constant need for movement, no matter how small, was endearing. "Yeah, you're probably right. I was just going to ask what 'subspaced' means."

"My subspace compartment is just a small extradimensional parcel of personal storage, that's all."

"My god, that's nothing short of amazing!" Astrid punctuated her point by throwing her arms up into the air, careful to avoid hitting the roof. "What would a giant robot want to store, anyways? It's not like you have a checkbook, or makeup, or keys."

"Well, I store things like this." Hound booted up the small program responsible for transfer of items to and from his subspace trunk. He quickly rummaged through the things he had in there, and selected a few. His passenger let out a small noise when a pine cone, a human's first aid kit, and a small cube of energon materialized in her lap. The Jeep laughed.

There was a silence in the cabin, before Astrid gingerly picked up the pine cone and turned it over under her gaze. Hound had actually stopped so he could focus on her, and all except for the dull thrum of his engine and the whine of Jimi's Fender Stratocaster, everything was silent. She set the pine cone down, and it took a considerable amount of will to keep himself from laughing again. There was just something about the way she moved, now that she was totally at ease with him, that he found incredibly... endearing.

"You're so weird," she said at length. "And I don't even want to know what this purple stuff is."  
Again, laughter bubbled up in him when he saw the grin on her face. He dematerialized the objects once more, but felt the 'purple stuff' needed an explanation. "That was fuel, by the way."  
She nodded, but her hand gestures pointed to her seeking to continue a previous thought. "Why can't we have neat things like subspace? I'm sure it would solve so many problems... the foremost of which would involve doing away with storage spaces..."

"But you have plenty of other neat things," Hound offered as he started up the path again.

"Like what?"

"Well... you have an immune system."

"I guess that is pretty neat."

"Yep." He continued. "And you have hair."

She grabbed a lock of her hair and held it up for the console, still convinced that's where his face was. "What, this? Honestly? All this is good for is tucking under a hat when I'm hiking."

"And you have skin."

"You're reaching here, I can tell."

"I'm being completely serious! You have no idea how amazing your body is." Her surface temperature spiked and she sat stock-still in the passenger seat. Oh dear. Hound fumbled for an explanation. "I mean, speaking from an individual with a rather open system, an enclosed system like yours is incredible."

"Like mine?"

"Like any human's, is what I was trying to get at."

"I see." Astrid loosened back up a certain amount and settled into the seat again. She was silent, so he still felt like he had to explain himself further.

"I mean, you remember what I looked like in robot mode, right?"

"A bit..."

"Only a bit? We were talking in your backyard for well over an hour."

"I was drugged and disoriented from meeting my first giant robot. I apologize for not committing every inch of you to memory."

Hound felt a tinge of guilt at being in the process of doing just that with her. Though, it was a habit with him. He liked his mental images of things, seeing as how he did have a lot of equipment and programming dedicated to manipulating holograms. It was just who he was.

"Well, you don't need to recall every detail of my chassis to know that, being a robotic lifeform, almost all of my parts, moving and otherwise, are open for things like dirt to explore willy-nilly."

"Yes, but that's awesome. The fact that you're a sentient machine. For me, protein-based organisms are commonplace... actually, I take that back because animals never cease to amaze me. But still. You're not of Earth, and that makes you one of the most fascinating things I know of."

"And for that very reason, you are neat to me."

"But I'm not neat to me."

"Nor I to me."

"You are one silly Jeep," she said, and proceeded to pet the dashboard a few times.

"And you are one silly human."

It was at that point that he stopped.

"We're here," he said gently, suddenly sober again. He felt Astrid scoot to the edge of her seat and heard her gasp as she surveyed the views before them.

"Oh my god." Her voice was softened by awe, and Hound killed the engine. Just over the front of his hood was Lake Tahoe, in all it's natural splendor, some 10 miles off. To the right of the lake the land changed drastically as the mountains sank into the desert of Nevada, lending them a good view of Reno. And far off to the north-west, Hound could almost make out the looming silhouette of Mt. Shasta. "I haven't been this far up before. I mean, on the access roads... It's beautiful."

She aimed to turn down the music to enjoy the views in thoughtful quietude, but Hound interrupted. "Do you... do you mind if I get up and stretch for a bit? I mean, if it's going to be too much trouble to get out and into your wheelchair, I understand..."

"Nonsense. I actually like that idea," she said. "Besides, I've been sitting down for too long anyways. I could use a stretch myself."

He didn't want to encourage comedy at her expense, but perhaps it was good that she was taking her temporary disability so well. So, he laughed.

Astrid proceeded to reach into the back seat (the least he could do was lower her seat to help her reach it better) for the compact wheelchair and unfolded it onto the ground after Hound opened the passenger side door for her. He was glad they were on level ground, or else he would have never asked her to do this without assistance. He lowered himself on his suspension as far as he could until she'd made the leap of faith and gotten into the chair without trouble.

"You got it?"

"I've got it."

"Alright."

With that, he shut the door and initiated the transformation sequence. Hidden gears and servos sprang to life as previously invisible seams in the body of the Jeep widened, creating planes of green to move, shift, and reveal darker metal underneath, all the while forming a humanoid structure with four limbs, a torso, and head. Hound stood up as the transformation occurred; it was such a habit that it was nearly part of the pre-programmed sequence. When it was finished, he looked down at Astrid, who was gawking at him with poorly masked awe. Hound greeted it with a mechanical smile.

"I'm sorry, that's just too amazing. I know I've seen you do it already, but I can't help but stare."

"Heh, it's okay. I'm used to hearing that."

The corners of her mouth were tugged upward before she turned back to the view. He watched as she planted her hands firmly on the rails and she slowly but surely scooted closer to the edge of the ridge. A slight panic welled up in him when he realized that she maybe shouldn't be on that thing out here, where the ground was far less stable than concrete. Hound didn't want her to hurt herself again.

He took a step forward, standing behind her now. At a good 6 feet from the edge, Astrid seemed to be aware of the risk, but Hound didn't want to leave anything to Murphy's Law. "Like you said," he announced, stooping to place his hands securely under her arms and lift her out of the chair, ignoring her cry of surprise. "You've been sitting down for way too long."

"What are you doing!"

Hound lifted her fifteen feet from the ground and set her on his shoulder. "Hold onto anything you feel like over there," he said with a grin. Sensors told him her heart rate was considerably accelerated, and her breathing was just as quick. A moment later, and two arms were wrapped around his head, and one of them was covering his optics with suspicious accuracy.

"I'm still sitting, you know," she said in a low voice. Good; her pulse was almost normal again.  
"You know," he offered casually. "If I fall, I take you with me."

"You wouldn't," she squeaked, and promptly relocated her arms to some protrusion on his shoulder.

"Of course I wouldn't!" he laughed. "Unlike some of my comrades, I prefer that my humans remain uninjured."

Astrid scoffed. "You're such a sweetheart."

Hound couldn't help but smile, even though the woman probably wouldn't see it. He looked out over the vast dark blue of the lake again as they sat (he stood) in relative silence. There was a small repetitious movement from his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Astrid straining to scratch under her cast.

"You shouldn't be doing that," he said softly.

"It itches, though."

It was a feeble argument, but who was he to tell her not to?

"Remember when you were talking about all the things you wished you could accomplish in your life but couldn't?" he asked out of the blue.

"Yeah?"

"What's one thing that you _can_ accomplish in your life?"

Astrid was silent as she thought, and Hound turned his gaze back to the sky, watching the wispy clouds slowly sail through the field of blue.

"I'd like to move to Alaska someday."

The remainder of their adventure was very pleasant. Astrid had realized while sitting on his shoulder that her bag had been in the backseat when he transformed and panicked a small amount, but Hound assured her it'd been subspaced. He fished through all his stuff and soon enough, the little bag phased into existence in the palm of his hand. She took the pack from him and took out what appeared to be some kind of food. She unwrapped it and aimed to take a bite, but paused, and asked if it would be alright if she ate on him. He proceeded to point out various splashes of dry mud on his chassis. Astrid giggled, taking that as the "you think I care about crumbs?" it was meant to be. (The bars left no crumbs, however.)

The drive back was equally as pleasant too.

It was another hour and a half back down to the highway, and ten minutes later they were once again driving down the streets of South Lake Tahoe. Hound had to bring out his hologram driver, much to Astrid's quiet dismay. It creeped her out and he knew just why, but he had to cast it in order to prevent himself from catching attention for having an empty driver's seat.

His passenger had run out of music when they got back on the pavement, so silence in between casual conversation was all that filled the air of his cab. That is, until Astrid emitted a strange noise during one of their lulls.

"Are you... alright?" he asked, not quite sure of the source of the sound.

"Oh... that was just my stomach growling."

He quickly searched the internet for what that meant. "So you're hungry?"

It "growled" again. Fiercer this time. He smiled when he saw her clutch at her midsection as though it would help. "Yeah, I suppose so... but I can wait until we get back to my house."

"Oh, balderdash. You have money on you?"

"Yes, but-"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Wait, what?"

"You know... fast food."

"You're going to take me through a drive-thru? You don't even have a driver! How are you going to take the food from the guy?"

"Just trust me. Where did you want to eat?"

"I uh... Jack in the Box?" she said in a manner that told him that she was still arguing about it. "There's one on Daowaga Road..."

He'd looked up the location before she told him the street, but he wanted to humor her. About 5 minutes of driving brought them to the drive-thru menu.

"I hope you know how crazy this is," Astrid whispered, still avoiding his hologram.

"Hi and welcome to Jack in the box, may I take your order?"

Now, Hound was willing to admit manipulating the hologram was tricky business, but it was definitely not beyond his skill by any means. Now that he didn't have to worry about driving, the Jeep would be able to focus on the task at hand. With great care he overrode the preprogrammed pose of his driver, forcing him to lean back into his chair to allow Astrid to order. This caused her to jump in surprise and lean away from it.

"Uh... just one moment please," she shouted so she could be heard by the cashier before lowering her voice again. "Hound, I'm going to be honest: that thing is creepy."

"It's not creepy." There was a trace of hurt in his processed voice. "All you have to do is lean over it."

With great hesitation she inched towards the false driver, taking extreme care to avoid getting within a few inches of it. "Ah, excuse me, I'm ready now," she said through the open driver-side window.

"Go ahead, ma'am."

"One chicken Cesar salad... and what the hell. And a vanilla shake, please."

Astrid heard the cashier repeat the order before announcing the bill incoherently.

"What did she say?" his passenger asked, settling back into her seat while beginning to fish through her bag.

Hound's holo shrugged, but it was still the car that spoke. "I have no idea."

"Well, seven should cover it." She held the three bills in her hand, but but didn't move. "How are we doing this again?" she implored of the console.

The Jeep pulled around the driveway and to the window. "Hand it to the holo."

"What? But that thing is made of _light_. Remember earlier?"

Hound couldn't really blame her for her almost humorous ignorance of the nature of Cybertronian holograms, but there was no time to enlighten her on the science of it now. "Trust me."

He moved the driver's hand toward her, palm upward in anticipation of receiving the cash. Astrid eye'd the figure like it was a leper, and with even more hesitation, she moved to hand it the bills. This is where things got tricky. Hound rerouted a considerable amount of energy toward the task of solidifying the holo, and when the money rested securely in its hand, he knew he'd succeeded. Had Astrid been looking closely at the gauges behind the steering wheel, she would have seen a rather mysterious one just beside the gas gauge labeled from 100 to 0. It had been at about 84 for the past half hour or so, but now the needle was visibly falling. With great deliberation, Hound manipulated the lifeless holoform like a photon puppet, successfully completing the transfer of goods for Astrid. He turned his attention to her for a brief moment, and noticed that she was rather flustered.

"Keep the change!" she nervously called to the cashier, and though he'd never admit it, was thankful she did. Keeping the holo from spilling a handful of coins everywhere was not something he wanted to do. "You're the craziest goddamn giant robot I've ever met!" she hissed. "That thing reminds me of the roach from MIB, and it is not a pleasant comparison to make by any means."  
"You know," he retorted as he noted to look up this character she spoke of later. The volume on his vocalizer was set to match hers so the poor woman at the window wouldn't hear his 'disembodied' voice and get peeved. "You've only met one giant robot. And in my defense, trying to keep him look like a convincing human is really difficult." Not to mention taxing on his energon levels. "I'm just trying to do you a favor here."

Astrid huffed and sank back into the seat, causing him to smile inwardly. "I... I appreciate it, thank you," was the murmured response. And then with a little more gusto: "But I still can't shake the feeling that we're doing something illegal here."

Hound did his best to silence the wave of laughter that was fighting to overcome him. The best he could do was to was to let it out through his idling engine. He sputtered a bit under the hood, meriting a cursory glance from a man walking his dog in front of the Jeep. The sound, if not considered to be a sign of engine failure, bore exceeding resemblance to that of a human giggling through their nose.

About 20 seconds was all it took for Astrid to receive her food. Hound had to expend even more energy than before to hold the to-go bag and hand it to her, and by the time the driver-side window was rolled up and he was pulling out of the driveway, the unmarked needle on his display read in the area of 75. Hound decided he wanted that energon cube before hitting the road again.  
The Jeep didn't kill his engine upon parking in Astrid's driveway.

"Thanks again," she said, sipping on the shake. "Great, now I owe you for two things: saving my life and taking me to get lunch."

"I know how you can repay me," he said, forcing every word to drip with devilish intent. It seemed to work, as he noted his passenger had ceased to enjoy her drink.

"...oh?"

"Can I crash here for the night?" His voice took on its normal chipper tone once again.

Astrid smacked the dashboard. Pretty hard, actually.

"You goon!" she exclaimed. "Making me think..."

Hound laughed. "Think what?"

"Think... nothing." She paused here for a moment, and Hound was really beginning to ponder just _what_she had thought he was going to say. Then the strange moment ended when she began to cover her tracks. "Of course you can stay here. I just have to get my car out of the garage. Poor baby hasn't been driven in weeks."

"I can help," he offered.

"I will definitely take you up on that offer, but right now I need to eat." She reached for the catch on her seat belt, but Hound undid it for her and proceeded to recline the seat a bit.

"You can eat here if you want..." He didn't want her to go inside, where he couldn't follow. Hound knew she would have accommodated him and sat in the backyard like the day previous, but somehow he liked this better.

He was relieved to hear her say "okay" and settle down in this new position. He heard the bag crackle as she opened it and fiddled with the plastic container to her salad. "But I'm going to need to use the restroom as soon as I'm done."

"Haha, alright."

Soon, the meal was finished and just as Astrid said, she excused herself to use the restroom. Apparently it was a rather complicated process, seeing as how it took her several minutes between exiting the vehicle and returning back outside. She made a joke about having Mr. Clean's arms by the time she was ready to move onto crutches.

Hound would have moved the vehicle himself, but there was no way he could have squeezed into the garage to have access to it. Astrid wheeled in and (almost effortlessly these days) hoisted herself up into the driver's seat, taking careful inventory of where her legs were.

"Ready?" she called out. The Jeep had transformed a moment before and was standing in front of the garage with his hands under the bumper of the yellow 4x4 vehicle. The plan was to put it in neutral and have him slowly back it out. She steered it so that the passenger side was flush against the tall hedge that marked the beginning of her neighbor's property. "So you have enough room to actually get to the garage," she said with a smile.

"Thanks." He smiled right back.

She began to wheel herself into the space, and Hound followed, surveying it. While he might have said her house was built sometime in the sixties or seventies, the 2-car garage seemed to be a newer addition, probably replacing a car port by the previous owners in the early nineties. All in all, it was rather impressive for a garage. Since Astrid only owned one car, half the space actually seemed to be something of an extension of the house. A beige Berber rug covered the concrete floor while a work bench and shelving units occupied one portion of the wall. To the left of that he saw what he assumed to be another refrigerator (that had seen better days), a few stacks of plastic tubs, a bike that was gathering dust, and an old 28 inch television surrounded by a few plastic chairs.

He was crouched dow, gazing at the furnished space with the same curiosity that many other things merited from him, and began to almost crawl inside. "You alright there?"  
"Oh, I'm fine," he said, careful not to hit his head on the garage door motor on the ceiling or the rafters. After getting his rather blocky body sufficiently inside, Hound sat down, cross-legged. "There we go." Much better.

Astrid began to free herself from the wheelchair, carefully lowering herself to the rug on the floor across from Hound. She couldn't cross her broken leg, so she sat with them stretched out unceremoniously in front of her, but not before removing the shoe on her left foot and the cast shoe from her right and tossing them to the side.

"You want to watch TV?" She thumbed in the direction of the black box.

Despite being able to receive television broadcast signals and see the images in his processor, he liked the idea of watching some with her. "Sure. But I'd like to ask you something before we do."

"Shoot."

"Well, I just want to know what it is you did for a living is all."

"Oh." She considered this for a brief moment. "Well, I'm a guide for a small company called Adventures Inc. I take people on tour hikes in the mountains around the lake and such. They're usually day hikes, and we provide all the gear and stuff." Astrid paused. "Shame I'll have to give it up."

Though she seemed extremely matter-of-fact about it, he could tell the thought depressed her. "Why do you have to give it up?" he asked, knitting his brow ridges and leaning forward a bit.  
Astrid tapped the bottom of her can against the cast on her leg a few times, making a clanking sound that filled the space more than it should have. "I'll be out of commission for an entire tourist season, and they can't afford that. In fact, I won't be surprised if Jim's been lining up interviews already. I just haven't gotten the call yet."

"Well can't you go back when you're healthy again?"

She shook her head dismally. "I had to provide medical proof of my excellent health when I got this job. Odds are, I'll have a weak knee after this. It'll be a liability. They can't chance having a guide getting injured on the job."

"What... what will you do after all this then?"

Astrid shrugged, finishing off her beer and setting the drink onto the ground beside her. She idly fiddled with the rim of the can for a moment before turning back to him. "Well, I have a degree in ecology under my belt," she laughed. "Maybe I'll move back into the city and do something with that. I know mom would love having me in Sacramento again."

"You're an ecologist?" he gasped. "Well why haven't you done anything in that field?"

"Uhm... lots of reasons. The whole green movement didn't really exist ten years ago for one, so finding jobs in any fields I would have been interested in would've been difficult unless I wanted to teach at a university. Which also disinterested me. I also knew that I wanted to live up here no matter what. Fell in love with the area when we'd come camping up here as a kid... life happened, one thing led to another, and I'd landed a job as a guide in the little town of South Lake Tahoe." She sighed. "Things were actually going pretty well for me... until this happened."  
It saddened the Autobot deeply to see just how derailed her life could get from something as simple as a hiking accident. For him, it would take enormous amounts of physical damage to so much as inconvenience his daily routine. He was beginning to understand just how fragile these creatures were... though they seemed extremely resilient in many other ways. Hound felt terrible for her, and a little angry at himself for not being able to do anything else to help. Without thinking, he reached forward and squeezed her shoulder gently.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you."

Astrid turned her head and looked at the great forearm beside her. She looked back down and patted it before bringing her hand to rest on the panel of metallic green. He committed to memory the feel of her hand against his arm, vaguely drawn to the warmth emanating from it. It was a tender, depressing moment, and after what seemed like a hundred solar cycles, she removed her hand from him and he did the same. Hound saw she left fingerprints on him.

"Let's not talk about sad stuff like this anymore," she said with a renewed sense of vigor. "I'm alive and on the road to recovery, and that's what really counts, right?"

He smiled down at her. "Right," was the gentle confirmation.

"Now let's see about that TV. What's your favorite channel?"

Later that evening, all was silent in the garage. Astrid had left the light on for him, which he appreciated as a gesture of kindness more than anything. It was unnecessary however, and not wanting to waste any more energy than was required, he flipped the tiny switch as soon as she'd departed for the house. Hound had thought about transforming into vehicle mode for recharge, as the garage was not designed with his dimensions in mind, but decided against it, somehow preferring to lay on the floor, hands behind his head and staring at the dark ceiling. Minutes crawled by, and eventually he offlined his optics in preparation for recharge. Before shutting down his waking systems, the Autobot did a curious sweep of the house, slowly and carefully, just as a parent might handle their child's favorite toy. He "saw" her on the far end of the structure. There was a little movement, and then there was none as she settled into bed.

If he concentrated, rerouted all energy to his scanners, he could feel her breathe. A minuscule, repetitious movement of her chest; a gentle rise and fall. He found this thing that could keep humans alive, this unconscious contraction of a few muscles, as small as it was, to be nothing short of amazing. So delicate and finely orchestrated. And the more he thought about it, the more terrifying it seemed.

Hound began to ponder what it was like to breathe. He had no lungs to fill with oxygen, no cartilaginous framework to allow for expansion and collapse within his body. He sighed, realizing that the sound was being produced in his vocal processor, and not through the exhalation of air. It did not result in the nearly unnoticeable slump of his shoulders like it often did with humans. No, he was solid. Metal. Static. Hard. The mech removed his hands from behind his head, and began to explore one with the other. He carefully traced the multitude of joints in each finger, in each palm. They were nothing like the smoothness of human hands, expertly crafted by evolution over the course of millions of years, completely enclosed in a layer of skin and padded with a tiny disk of spongy cartilage.

Deceptively simple was her design...

The mech turned on his dim light vision and glanced at the backpacks hung on a rack on the wall to his right. There were two of them; their metal frames extremely light, built to hold a considerable arsenal of survival gear; and then he recalled the image of Astrid, freshly unearthed from the expanse of rubble, pack still strapped to her frame. In retrospect, that was probably the very thing to spare her from a life of paraplegia. He frowned at the thought of such a free spirit being chained to a machine for the rest of her life... he could already tell just how frustrating it was for her to be dependent on a wheelchair for several weeks despite her growing adeptness with it.

Hound swept the house again, feeling her breathe once more. This time, the movement was even slower and steadier than before; more fragile. He knew this was a sign that she was nearing delta, brainwaves slowing to something like 4-6 per second. He got the sudden compulsion to ask her something- send it to her phone in a text message, but she was already asleep and he didn't want to wake her up.

Maybe it was time that he slipped into recharge too.

…


	5. Long Time

Strange... as soon as Astrid opened her eyes, she received a text message. The cell phone vibrated a few times on the bedside table and fell silent once again. The woman groaned and stretched, popping a few joints here and there before falling limp. With as much enthusiasm as she could muster, Astrid reached for her phone to see that the message was from a strange number. It wasn't the typical five or ten-digit, but she opened it anyways.

_Good morning! -Hound_

She set the phone back down again and giggled to herself tiredly. A hardy gray feline rose up from her feet then, a cat by the name of Stanley, carefully making his way closer to her face. He stretched and meowed.

"You're hungry aren't you?" Astrid mumbled, petting the long-haired cat.

Meow.

"Yes you are. Come on, let's feed you."

Meow.

"Oh, him? He can wait until my baby's been fed."

Meow.

"Alright, if you insist."

Meow.

Astrid reached for the phone again and reread the small note. It coaxed another smile to spread across her face as she went to send a reply to the Jeep in her garage.

_Good morning to you too! I'll be out there in a few minutes after I feed my poor, starving cat. :)_

With that, she sat up. The motion reminded her that she was weighed down with a cast. She was getting much better at getting in and out of her chair, and due to a small streak of dismal humor in her, Astrid was almost sad to know that she was moving onto crutches in a few days just as she was getting good at this. And so with the grace of a three-legged dog, she maneuvered into the wheelchair, Stanley dutifully dashing into the kitchen before her.

-

In a few minutes, she'd thrown open the front door, headed down the small ramp, wheeled past her yellow Xterra, and headed over to the side door to the garage. A brief knock was all the warning she gave before opening up.

To her surprise, Hound was lying face-up on the floor. "Hey there!" She paused here, surveying his form for a moment. "You know, that doesn't look entirely comfortable."

The green robot knocked against the side of his chest, producing a typical metallic sound. "Concrete is as comfortable to me as a good mattress. Don't worry about it."

The corners of her mouth turned upward in a smile, but she was slightly preoccupied with how he looked laying down. In retrospect, it was a stupid thing to be fascinated by, but she was fascinated by it nonetheless. It didn't occur to her that Hound would... lay down. He was a robot, right? Couldn't he technically... rest (or whatever he did) in any position?

"Do I... have something stuck in my chassis?" The Jeep propped himself up on an elbow servo and looked over himself with scrutinizing optics.

Astrid chuckled. "No, I was just thinking."

"Oh."

A silence.

"When do you... when do you leave?"

Hound, with a little effort, turned himself around so he was instead laying belly-down. Astrid couldn't help but liken the behavior to that of a human. He bobbed his head from side to side and looked curiously at his beautifully engineered hands. "I've got the feeling that someone will get huffy if I'm not there by tomorrow morning."

She nodded. "You should probably get going soon, then." Disappointment laced her voice (moreso than she would have liked). Of course he had to go. He had obligations to an entire military organization; he had a duty.

The Jeep suddenly sat up, though he was leaning toward her and gesticulating as he spoke. "You know that I'd like to stay here... this is really a beautiful part of California, and you're a great friend, but you need to relax and heal. I don't want to distract from the important things."

"You wouldn't distract," she lied with a smile. "But you've got responsibilities to the Autobots, and I would hate to interfere with that."

Hound looked at her, and she thought for a moment his eyes grew a little brighter. "I'm really glad I had the chance to meet you," he said with a chipper tone.

"Same here. I feel... privileged to have gotten to know you. Honestly. And I'm... going to miss you." she didn't quite know what to do with her hands, so she folded her arms across her chest and brought her shoulders forward a bit. The mech drew in closer, resting an arm on his knee.  
"Who says we can't still keep in touch?"

Astrud looked up at the luminescent panels set in his face, pondering for a second how he saw with them. "Really? I'd like that."

"Then let's do that."

"And maybe when I'm on my feet again, I'll drop by the park to say hi."

"I'd like that."

She grinned. "Then let's do that."

He was still leaning forward as if to say or do something, but nothing came. It was almost unnerving, though she felt no tension in the air.

"C'mere you big lug," the woman said at length. She stretched out her arms, not really knowing or caring just how this would work. When his posture changed the tiniest bit, she waved her hands to beckon him down. "Come on," she said in a sing-song manner.

Hound began to lean slowly in, opening his arms a bit, though paused. "I don't..."

"Shut up. This is to make up for two days ago. You're a big kid, you can do it."

A chuckle escaped him as he made to kneel in closer. She heard him making minute and subtle sounds with every movement, like some kind of faint, humming symphony. Astrid listened to the whirs of machinery emanating from him, whether from the shifting of joints or the unseen servos from deep within his body.

Soon enough, two arms of quite unnatural girth wrapped around her as much as they carefully dared. Then, a strange thing happened: not in a million years would Astrid have ever thought that she would find... comfort in lightly pressing her face against the front grille of a Jeep. It was a completely illogical and absurd thing when she thought about it. Hound was a vehicle. She was hugging a car. A very sentient car at that, but a car nonetheless. Not an ounce of flesh or bone comprised him, and the only place one would find organic material on his person would be in the treads of his tires. And yet here she was, hugging him. And she was getting a rush from it.  
The moment didn't, in reality, last long at all. Astrid swayed a small amount when he let go, and was glad she was already sitting down.

"You know," she ventured. "You give pretty good hugs for being a large metal thing."

Hound's posture was suspiciously similar to that of a young boy who'd just "accidentally" brushed hands with his crush, his head down and gaze averted with a self-conscious smile on his face. "Well, hehe, I do try."

And there it was, again. The creeping silence. Despite the absence of words for those few moments, however, Hound's body language spoke volumes. Astrid was just afraid that hers was doing the same.

"I should get going," he said softly.

The woman's eyes slowly wandered to a button on the wall. Upon pushing it, the garage door opened, revealing a pale morning beyond the end of the driveway. Mist from the lake was attempting to flee the sun, burning off as it crawled up into the foothills like terrified ghosts passing low over the trees and rooftops. Astrid hoped that the smell of moisture and negative ions fresh in the air would help ease the blow she would suffer today.

"You probably should."

For some reason far beyond her, she was desperately hoping he didn't want to leave as much as she didn't want him to. But away he went. Hound eased himself out of the garage, one last chance to stand fully upright before the long drive to Yellowstone. Astrid couldn't help but yet again marvel at his construction. What was it all for? All of those pieces? Each one had to be important in some way. But what did they all do? How did they all work in such perfect unison? She watched with almost childish intrigue as he raised his arms to the sky and flexed every digit in an eerily human display.

Someday she would find out.

"I had a great time with you, Hound. You're a true friend."

The great chrome and faceted body turned around and he looked down at her from over his shoulder. There was a smile planted there. "My sentiments exactly," was his reply. Without warning he bent down, bringing his limbs underneath him and tucking his head down as all the pieces of him shifted about, and not 3 seconds later, there was a second vehicle in her driveway. Astrid wanted to protest his transformation; gazing at his Jeep form was not nearly as interesting as his bipedal form, not to mention that it was a most obvious signal that he was leaving in a minute or so. Astrid's brow furrowed and her mouth drew into a tight line as she looked over him now. Hound gave two chirping honks before starting his engine, the hiker waving goodbye all the while.

And then he was gone.

Astrid sat in the driveway for several minutes, absently staring at the street, pondering this strange hole that was present now. The psychological abscess didn't exist before she'd met him. It was almost as if, merely by existing and being in her company for two short days, that he had wedged himself somewhere in her being and created a vague emptiness that she wouldn't even be aware of until he was gone again. She truly hated herself for even considering that her already missing him was due in small part to what he was, that he was exotic in a sense. She knew people clung to things for the sake of clinging to it, and she didn't want to think of Hound as a celebrity friend. Something to boost her ego and brag about. He was alien, after all. But no, there was something else. The void had very little to do with personal gain and more to do with him.

But there was nothing she could do about it now. He was a working professional that had happened to save her life. A lasting relationship of any magnitude was not meant to be, and the sooner she understood that, the sooner she could move on with her life and deal with the priorities that existed before a giant robot knocked on the door. The hole would heal, and so would her leg, and things would go back to the way they were.

To Astrid's relief, the phone inside began to ring. Turning on her wheels, she made her way up the ramp and back into the house just in time to answer.

"Hello?" To her chagrin, her voice sounded tired and detached.

"Hey Astrid, it's Jim," was the reply from the other end. "We need to talk."


	6. 25 or 6 to 4

Difficult. It was very difficult.

She didn't cry, though. She was going to deal with this like an adult.

Astrid had been on the phone with Jim for nearly half an hour about the situation the previous Tuesday. Between then and now, the she had made several phone calls to family, traded in her wheelchair for a pair of sturdy crutches, and begun to consider what to do to pay the bills.

Being 'let go' did frustrate her, there was no denying that. But through the beer, margaritas, and tubs of ice cream, she began to realize... that the accident was a wake up call. Astrid had settled; she'd gotten comfortable. Always one to claim that she never sought fame, fortune, or anything else but a humble life close to nature, the idea of getting too comfortable seemed almost alien to her. Wasn't that what she wanted? A peaceful, unassuming life? But the more she mulled, and puzzled, and thought over this simple assumption over the course of several days, Astrid began to understand that this was not the case at all. In fact, the answer, hiding in plain sight, was the very thing that caused this catastrophic disruption of her daily life to begin with: a hike.

But this was no ordinary hike, no. It was 75 miles of mountainous terrain to conquer in complete solitude. It was a test of her skill and endurance as an accomplished outdoorsman, a woman of wild North America. She hadn't sought to prove anything to anyone other than herself. And perhaps it was the eagerness to reach this self-erected milestone in her life that caused her to make but one mistake: embark on the journey at all.

Northern California had experienced a considerably wet winter that year, and the normally rather arid region was seeing mudslide activity with the newly loosened soil. Astrid knew all too well that park rangers could only maintain a certain portion of California's trails, so when no word came of slides along her intended path, she once again green-lighted the trip. Unfortunately, God had a huge "I told you so" planned for her. This cosmic smack on the hand could not have hurt more; physically and emotionally. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but did Astrid really come out from that pile of rocks with something more than broken bones and sunstroke? As much as she wanted to think so, she had a feeling that the repercussions of the accident were far from over, and only when all was said and done could she truly measure her growth as a person.

And where did Hound figure into all of this? It seemed to her that he was a humble wild card in the scheme of things. He wasn't a major player... he wasn't going to change her life.

...or maybe he did.

Or maybe he had yet to do so?

Astrid had desperately tried to avoid thinking about him for the past few days; she didn't want his comment about being a distraction to morph into some kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. She was never going to see him again, she knew that much, not to mention that she hadn't even heard from him since he left. He was probably leaving her be to deal with her life, and just as well. She had no business associating with an Autobot.

"So I heard from Eli that your cast is coming off in 3 weeks." The young woman on the other end of the line was Natalie, one of Astrid's good friends and ex co-workers. "That's totally great."

Astrid smiled into the phone, making more comfy on her couch. "Isn't it? My god, I'm so looking forward to being able to walk again."

"I know, right? The guys over at R.E.I. have been asking for you," she giggled. "Speaking of guys... Eli also told me that you had some date with a no-show a little while ago. Care to share some juicy details?"

She scoffed and furrowed her brow. "Oh, come on, Nat."

"Aw, at least tell me who he is so I know who to avoid." The young woman burst into laughter at her own joke. When it was met with silence, she continued. "Honestly, girl! You nearly _die_, alone in the wilderness, and he doesn't have the manners to let you know your date was cancelled? Forget avoiding him; I'll hunt that son of a bitch down and give him a piece of my mind."

"Hey, whoa, take it easy there, Bessie. He wasn't a... total flake."

"Really? Where'd you two hook up then? Is he hot? Is he sweet? Oh, what am I talking about, of course he has to be sweet... you can't really put out when your leg's broken, hahaha!"

Astrid sighed and grew very hot in the face as her friend blathered on. "Yes," she mumbled. "He was the sweetest guy I've ever met, with an awesome body to boot. He's tall and uh... probably pretty strong."

"Oh my god," Natalie squealed. "Wherever you found him, you have to take me there."

She was so incredibly tempted to reply with 'all you have to do is get stuck in a canyon and have search and rescue after you', but she held it back or else there would be much more explaining to do. "I'll let you know some other time. Besides, didn't you dump what's-his-name just a week ago?"

"Hello? It's called rebounding. It's a helluva lot better than sulking around and feeling sorry for myself. Besides, the guy was a creep. Had _way_too many photos of his mother hanging up in his-"

Astrid's computer, which was sitting on the coffee table in front of her, made a small, friendly noise to let her know that she'd received an email. While vaguely listening to Natalie continue on about her idea of a nut, she idly opened the laptop to read the message.

Her face blossomed into a wide smile upon glancing at it in her inbox. "Sorry to cut this short, but I'll have to call you back later," she interrupted before promptly hanging up.

_Hey!_

_Sorry it took me so long to email you, but they put me straight to work as soon as I got here Tuesday afternoon, and I've been busy ever since. I really hope things are going well for you... if I'm not mistaken, you're on crutches now? If that's the case, good for you! You're almost there._  
_It's kind of funny- I almost got used to you sitting in my passenger seat, and though Beachcomber is here too, I kind of miss your company. Heh, BC 's a great mech, don't get me wrong, but he's not the best conversationalist ever. Well, neither am I, but... well, I miss talking to you._

_Anyways, this message has some attachments as you can see. Sorry that I wasn't able to clean them up before sending them to you, but I hope you'll appreciate them all the same. If you've looked at them already, I'm sure you're wondering what exactly is wrong with the last image. Well, that one's straight from my personal memory files. That's how the world looks to me!_  
_So there you go. Hope you enjoy._

_-Big Lug_

Reading his email gave her an extremely clichéd warm and fuzzy feeling inside, filling the hole she'd tried to forget about for the time being. Astrid scrolled to the bottom of the page to open the attachments. About a dozen photos greeted her eyes, all of them of the sweeping views of Yellowstone National Park. Her favorite was without a doubt the one shot of his hand, palm upward, catching some of the boiling hot water droplets from an erupting Old Faithful. In the background she could make out another robot through the white mist, laughing. He was blue and gray with a sort of visor that obscured his eyes... she assumed that was Beachcomber.

But the last one... she opened it up and was very confused for several minutes. Astrid realized that it was some sort of... image of trees, and a human figure kneeling down next to the trunk of one, doing something. There was color to it, but not color as she would see in a normal photograph; it was comprised of many layers and depth in one flat image, as well as what she decided was heat detection. It was an overwhelming picture.

_That's how the world looks to me!_

Astrid sat back on the couch, rubbing her chin as she looked at it more. The woman was trying her very best to imagine what it was like to see everything in that way, to be able to process it and turn it into something comprehensible. She tried, but couldn't do it. The best comparison she could draw was that of a blind person suddenly being able to see. Did Hound have to learn how to see? Or was he built... _born_knowing?

She suddenly felt compelled to share with him how she saw things as a human. But how? It wasn't as if she had at her disposal a means of translating verbatim her own mental images onto paper or computer screen; not like him. She entertained the idea of a simple photograph, but very quickly dismissed it as stupid when she remembered that he'd have seen many photos before. But the thought occurred to her again, and she dismissed it one more time, though not for the same reason... when she thought about it, a photograph didn't capture what it felt like to see in any way shape or form. In fact, it was entirely different. Astrid stared at the empty fireplace in front of her for a few moments, taking note of the subtle surges of static, of floaters faint and impossible to follow, false movement of stationary objects in her peripheral vision, the darkening of her vision as she willed her eyeballs still. It dawned on her then that this was the first time that she'd noticed such things and proceeded to feel proud of herself, but the sentiment soon gave way to an incredible sense of inferiority.

Her mind sat empty for a few moments before thoughts came crawling back in. Some of them sheepishly suggested that perhaps, if she and Hound were somehow to exchange eyes, that they would both be utterly blind for some time. She didn't dare think about it any further and instead settled for the comfort the concept brought.

Had she been without crutches, Astrid would have taken the opportunity to head over to the kitchen and refill her glass of water; she instead opted to write an email.

"_Big Lug-_

_Well, I'm glad to hear they're keeping you busy. There's nothing worse than having nothing to do!_  
_Things are fine over here… off my crutches, yes, but they hurt something awful after a few minutes. Almost makes me miss the wheelchair. Things have been a bit boring since you left, in all honesty. I can drive again because my left foot'll tolerate the pressure now, but other than that I'm still not as mobile as I'd like to be."_

She stopped here and reread what she'd written, letting out a great sigh. A minute or two passed before her fingers were brought back to the keyboard again.

"_Hey… remember when I told you that most people don't have time to look at the clouds as long as you can? That I, by my very nature, have to grab life by the horns or else it'll run right past me?_

_I think that I've been hesitating this whole time. I'm 29 years old… I can't afford to hesitate anymore._

_Miss you too._

_-A."_

Astrid didn't read over that part again, instead sending it before she had the chance to second-guess her choice of words. She proceeded to print her favorite of Hound's photos.

Time passed. Slowly. It crawled by in a sort of dizzying numbness; the days were all a fog. There was a complication with her ankle: something about the ligaments was preventing it from healing properly. A multitude of MRIs and X-rays were taken, and surgery was scheduled for the morning of May 28th. Recovery from arthroscopic surgery was incredibly short compared to more invasive procedures, but still. It was yet one more thing preventing her from putting on her shoes and hitting the trails.

Astrid hadn't heard from Hound in a while, either. She'd received only one more batch of photos from him before correspondence went cold, and that was 2 weeks prior.

She'd most definitely given her hopes up on the whole thing. The whole... thing. All of it.

Whatever that actually meant.

The woman spent the remaining days of her partial incapacitation watching TV in a self-induced stupor. It seemed like the logical thing for an emotionally comatose individual to resort to, at any rate. Hound's photo was stuck to the fridge with a magnet beside another photo of her sister and brother-in-law in front of the World Trade Center. Below the two of them were a jumble of words; magnetic poetry deliberately mussed to prevent the chance interpretation of anything coherent.

And such were her excursions to the refrigerator and back for another 9 days. But then the unthinkable happened: her cast came off.

The hospital visit was not as ceremonial as she felt it should have been. A few moments of shrieking on the part of the hand saw, and a crack that sounded eerily similar to the breaking of bones saw that the cast was wrenched away forever. Under any other circumstance Astrid would have felt embarrassment on behalf of the pale and hairy limb, thin from mild atrophy. But not now. No, she was finally free. No more hesitation.

"I'm so happy for you, Astrid! I know you've been a bit down for the past few days... hopefully this'll brighten your spirits."

"What're you talking about, mom? I haven't been down anywhere."

"It's alright, honey. Everyone gets the blues sometimes. Look, you can talk to me. I'm your mother, that's what I'm here for. You'll always be my baby. If you have anything you need to get off your chest you'll tell me, right?"

Astrid lied. "Right."

There was a party at her little house later that evening, inviting close family and closer friends to celebrate with her. Despite not having heard from Hound in too long now, she sent a short note to him, asking for his best wishes. Something about the message was feigned, though she would not be able to determine it in retrospect.

The party was a blast. Drinks, food, and football games filled the house and garage, and as tempting as it was to get completely smashed, something told her to refrain from getting too drunk. The longing to lose self-control like that was instead filled with binging on hot wings and pasta salad. It would suffice.

But despite having the best time in a while, Astrid couldn't help but drift back to the Jeep more and more with every drink. She started to feel the waves of psychological anesthesia ease into her being the more she dwelled, but she wasn't about to let that happen. It was her night, and Hound or no Hound, she would damn well enjoy it, even if she _was_getting questions about the photo on her refrigerator.

Laughter and voices increased in volume as the night wore on. Alcohol had a habit of doing that. Guests also began to trickle home when the clock chimed 10, but her house wasn't vacant until 2 am. Though her leg was uninhibited now, it was far from perfectly healthy, so her mother, sister, and Eli remained behind to help clean the mess an hour after midnight. When it came right down to it, that hour or so was her most favorite of the evening. The house was quiet, and she was in the company of some of the best people in her life. It was only then that she was able to forget about Hound for a little while.

Sadly, they too had to leave. Tracy and Eli had work in the morning, and Astrid's sister, Hannah, had a long drive back to San Fransisco.

The house was clean, empty and silent as soon as the last car drove away.

Astrid stood with elbows resting on the kitchen counter, looking about the house from her vantage point, trying as best she could to find something that would keep her from sleep just a little while longer. She was still considerably buzzed and entertained the idea of breaking out the tequila for a few shots in solitude.

"Screw it," she muttered to herself and headed for the liquor cabinet.

As she was fetching a shot glass from another cabinet, Astrid heard a car pull up the driveway. She expected a rap on the door, seeing as how her mother had forgotten her reading glasses when she left, but none came. She was in the middle of throwing back her first shot when her phone received a text message. Groaning and shaking off the tingling burn that started to spread through her blood, she went over to the phone on her way to the door.

_Knock, knock._

What could only described as a white feeling fell through her. She nearly sprinted to the front front door and tore it open, revealing a long, squarish frame perfect for tackling the road-less back country. Astrid found herself shaking her head, mouth slightly open, as she turned off the porch light and stepped down the ramp she no longer needed.

"You're taller than I thought," the vehicle said, softly so his voice wouldn't travel farther than the driveway.

A smile curled her mouth upward. "You have absolutely no idea how good it feels to walk again."  
"I've got a pretty good imagination."

Pause.

"Hey... why'd you come back?"

A beat.

"We attacked a Decepticon installation up north a few days ago. The mission was a success, so I thought I'd drop by and celebrate with you... and give you my best wishes."

The smile on her face broadened as she headed over to the garage to open the door. "Alcohol doesn't do anything for you, right?"

"Not a thing."

"What do you drink to... loosen up, then? Relax? Party?"

He transformed then (it was still an amazing thing to see), and a small pinkish, glowing cube rested in the palm of his hand. She recognized it as something akin to the "fuel" he materialized in her lap that one day, though it was a slightly different color. "High-grade energon," he said before going to take a seat in the garage. Astrid went to go quickly fetch her own high-grade, returning moments later with a bottle of _Sauza Extra_and in hand.

She was feeling very, very warm, and had been for the past few hours since she first started to drink. Astrid was distantly surprised that she hadn't said anything stupid yet, actually. She was not a heavyweight in any sense of the word, but that didn't prevent her from drinking when the situation called for it. Or when she wanted to get the hell out of her own head.

There was something strange and thick in the air that night, and it wasn't liquor. The good spirits from earlier in the evening had gone to sleep, and it was just her and the Autobot.

Astrid couldn't dissect how she felt anymore. She didn't think it was due to being drunk... it was something far more, far bigger than temporary inebriation. It was looming over her like a fog bank, gray and emotionless. She felt it coming on long ago, though as blind, she couldn't see it; she could only feel its dank weight passing through her. Weight. Heaviness. Those two words, as she thought them over with another damning sip of tequila, rang true like no other that could be found in the English language. She stole a glance at Hound's hands as they raised the luminescent cube to his mouth, pondering the sort of pressures that they could deliver. Their weight; their heaviness.

It was very difficult to tell when he was looking at her. He didn't have pupils and irises that revealed the direction of his gaze, though Astrid was beginning to suspect that she was currently the focus of his scrutiny.

"You alright there?" he smiled, cocking his green head to the side a bit. "Come on, sit with me. I feel like I'm sitting by myself."

A stupid laugh escaped her. She picked up her drink and sauntered over to him where he sat on the floor. The sober Astrid gazed on in distant shock as her drunken self swung her hips from side to side, almost as if she were trying to seduce someone.

_Someone. _Hah!

She wasn't sure if this unexpected behavior would have any effect. In fact, even thinking about it caused her to sober up enough to scold herself. The scolding didn't seem to work, though. There was a strange sense of apathy at work; a calm desperation. She was beginning to let her thoughts run rampant.

All the while, Hound seemed to be blissfully oblivious of the gears turning and jamming in her head, or at least as far as she could tell.

"You look great," he said with a smile on his face. Hound was sitting with his feet flat on the floor and knees slightly apart; Astrid followed suit, her bottle of tequila coming to rest with a clumsy _clank_beside her.

"Thanks. You do too."

"Even though I'm caked with mud and haven't gotten a repaint since the fight ended?" She couldn't gauge where he was.

"Especially." Astrid espied the cube, now empty, resting on the floor at his side. "You don't have another one?"

Hound shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. "I do... but I don't want to be driving under the influence, haha."

She laughed, and for some reason it sounded louder than usual. "Oh, come on! Drink up! You won a battle and I got my legs back today. There's plenty to celebrate. Here: a toast." The woman held high her slowly emptying bottle, golden liquid sloshing around inside as she did so. "To us! Freedom and victory. Cheers!"

They two of them brought their drinks together before guzzling as much as they could. Astrid could only swallow a little before coughing and sputtering: the burning in her mouth was too much to bear. But as she brought her watering eyes upward, she saw Hound polish off the rest of his cube before tossing it aside with a grin on his faceplates. His optics, normally a brilliant blue, were dimmed. "Cheers," he drawled. Astrid burst into laughter that, for some reason, she was unable to contain. He took this as a cue to start laughing himself before suddenly reaching forward with a good-natured "get over here", worming his hand under her posterior to bring her to sit on his chest as he lay down on the floor. The woman made sure that her tequila made the journey too, but Hound didn't seem too keen on the idea. "I meant you, not the alcohol," he chuckled, plucking the bottle from her grasp and setting it aside.

She looked down at his face, somehow noticing the brightening of his optics.

"I think I've been wanting to do that for a while now," he said in a quiet voice, almost surprised at himself.

"I think I've been wanting you to do that for a while now," was the reply.

The world swam, and it was hard to keep her eyes in focus. The metal underneath her felt soft, and so she touched it. Her fingers brushed over the green paint on the hood like a child on a microfiber blanket. Hound made a strange movement in response, but it didn't quite register.

"I like the photos you sent me," she slurred. "Especially the one of your uhm... the one with your hand?" Astrid clumsily imitated what she remembered the image looked like. The mech's hand ended up near hers about then, palm facing hers, digits partially straightened. It seemed only natural for her hand to close the remaining 3 inches or so and trace around the metal bits in each joint. His hand was remarkably still as she did so.

"I like that one too," he murmured.

Maybe the room was spinning too much, or maybe she'd been cooped up in her house for too long, or maybe it was because Hound's fingers were gently closing in on her hand. It didn't really matter, actually. All that mattered was that her mouth had somehow found his.  
"Not sure how you do it, but that's what us Earthlings call a kiss," she said once it was broken.

His face, distantly surprised, morphed into a smile. "I'd like to know more about that." An enormous hand came into careful contact with her back, a digit tracing down her spine.  
Astrid couldn't feel the warmth the touch would have normally generated through the static haze of intoxication, but she did feel the rush, and the shudder that went along with it. "So long as you show me after my turn."

"Deal."

If there was any part of her that was sober, it would have been desperately hoping this was all a dream.


	7. Seven Bridges Road

_Well, I can tell that most people didn't like the last chapter. And that's good: you weren't supposed to like it._

As for the song for this chapter... I highly recommend that you listen to it instead of just reading the lyrics.

* * *

The morning trickled in through the minuscule gap between concrete and garage door; though it was actually his internal chronometer that slowly dragged him out of recharge with a sensation akin to incessant jabs to the head. Something like a groan or the grinding of gears escaped him. He brought a hand up to his faceplate and noticed that the appendage felt heavy. In fact, all of him felt heavy, and he couldn't quite pinpoint why, even going so far as to fear damaging the concrete he was laying on. He made to move his other arm about then, but noticed a weight on it, infinitesimal as it was.

Hound onlined his optical sensor net. The process took longer than he hoped, and the interference was a little painful. He attempted to ignore it as he turned his head to see what was on his arm-

Any sort of sluggishness that might have remained in his system from the previous night's over-fueling was gone, fleeing from the brilliant light of realization. Shock etched itself upon his face and his mouth fell open. There, prone and fast asleep on his hand was Astrid. Her clothes, which were not on her body to his dismay, were instead balled up and shoved under her head. This scene seemed to cue a mental slide show. Images of varying lecherousness, skewed by a thick haze of static, played out in the forefront of his processors like, for the lack of a better term, a car accident. It was then he noticed that a finger on his free hand was thinly coated in an oily fluid, and that there was a peculiar organic smell thick in the air.

"_Oh dear Primus..._"

Hound shot up, though not wanting to wake her. Panic began to settle like thick dust, and as his gaze turned once more to the human, he began to shake his head from side to side as though the repetitious movement could somehow undo what had transpired between them the night before. There was a shuddering in his spark; hit joints stiffened. What was he going to do? What was she going to do? What did they do the night before? Was it really as bad as his memory files suggested? The mech groaned, aiming to massage the bridge of his olfactory sensors, but recoiled his hand when reminded just where it had been.

Brow ridge furrowed. His mouth, so used to curling upward in countless grins and smiles, was now yanked downward in a distressed frown. Initial disgust with the situation was beginning to fade away, leaving only the disgust he had for himself.

How did he let this happen? Vector Sigma, this was all his fault, wasn't it? He wasn't so much of a pushover that he couldn't say no, was he? The mech looked down at himself, spotting numerous whole and partial hand prints about his chest, thigh, and hip plates. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to crawl inside himself and rust away into nothing.

"How did this even happen?" he lamented once more.

The most damning question, however, was the one he was avoiding most.

Did he, or did he not fully consent to what took part? Or was it the high-grade? It didn't even matter who came onto who first... from what he could piece together, they both practically did it at the same time. But then there was the question of whether or not Astrid had done it solely from intoxication or not, too. Was there some shred of truth to what had happened at all?

There had to have been.

It had to have been there all along, in some small way, and getting drunk only evolved it into something that neither of them had the willpower to control. Hound recalled memories from their drive. Was it her touch or her conversation that he enjoyed more? The last dregs of concentrated energon being flushed from his system was making it difficult to think that hard.

"Astrid," he whispered, turning to her once again.

Nothing.

"Astrid." Less feeble this time.

Still, nothing.

Hound risked lifting his arm in the air. He did so carefully, as she was precariously balanced there, and brought her closer. He distantly wanted to bring her closer to his chest, but refrained from any unnecessary physical contact.

"Astrid, you need to wake up."

He nudged her shoulder with the opposite hand, but it turned into a slow stroke over her upper arm. This motion seemed to stir her.

The woman groaned, long and broken. Her arm painfully lifted from where it hung to scratch her scalp before lifting up her head to look around. When her gaze locked with his, he noticed that her eyes were puffy and bloodshot. The sight made him ache everywhere.

"What's going on?" she mumbled groggily. "Why'd you wake me up?"

His vocal processors seized up for a moment. "We need to talk," he replied at length.

The look she gave him was ignorant and confused, but after attempting to stretch, her ball of clothes fell to the floor and she was made suddenly aware of her nudity. For a second time he saw the light of realization catch her like a deer in headlights, causing her eyes to shoot open. His frown deepened.

Astrid's eyes darted around wildly: from his face, to his chest, to his feet, to the floor, to the discarded bottle of tequila, to the empty energon cubes. Then back to him. Her expression was pleading, distraught, and he could tell she was trying to form words in her contracting throat, but failed. Instead, she shook her head vigorously.

"You need to put me down."

"I-"

"Put me down _now_."

Emotion laced her voice, and Hound did as she asked. As soon as she was a few feet from the floor, she leaped off him, gathered her wad of clothing and frantically put it back on. As she bent to pick up the rest, she espied a small bottle nearby, and slowly picked it up. Upon a brief inspection of the lubricant, her face morphed into a twisted show of her horror and disgust.

"Astrid..."

She dropped the bottle on the floor and dashed out of the garage.

"Astrid wait!" The attempt was futile, he knew. He sat in silence for a few moments before cursing aloud. "Slaggit all to hell!" Hound brought his fist to the floor in sudden frustration and regretted it when he saw the cracks.

There had to be something he could do about this! This couldn't be an incurable situation... he didn't want their relationship to turn foul and for them never to speak again. That thought saddened him beyond anything else. Astrid was a beautiful soul, and she had helped to make his experience on Earth all the richer. To let their friendship wither away would be a terrible loss. Again it was the question of what could actually be done. Would she even listen to him now?

Hound shoved his shame and self-loathing aside for the time being. He was going to try and fix this. Sending a signal to the simple electronics responsible for the garage door, the thing came to life and opened. Light flooded in and he stepped out. Standing up gave his gyroscope and equilibritory unit a run for their money, and he had to grab the eave on the garage to steady himself for a moment. He took this opportunity to pinpoint her location in the house, however, and as soon as he was able to, squeezed into the backyard, not particularly concerned for the attention he might be warranting. He came to a small window high on the wall, and heard water running. The window wasn't closed all the way, and steam was billowing out through the slight gap. He couldn't see through the frosted glass, so he listened intently for a moment. The mech wasn't able to discern any noise other than the hiss of the shower. Gathering up his courage, he lightly tapped on the window.

"Astrid..."

"What the hell do you want? Just leave me alone!"

The sudden outburst was surprising and left him stung.

"I just want to talk. I reserve no judgement-"

"That's fine," she snapped. "Because I'm judging for the both of us. Now if you please, leave me alone to live my life. I've fucked it up enough already."

Those words cut him deeper than any energon blade ever could. He felt his spark writhe in its chamber as he took a step back before turning cold.

"If that's what you want," Hound said to himself. "Fine."

The 15 foot mech returned to the driveway and transformed. With angry roar of his engine, he sped down the street, heading for the nearest highway.

-

The drive to Yosemite seemed to take forever. It took about eight hours of solid driving for the anger to go away, and by the time he reached the park, Hound was a silent wreck. It was about four in the morning when he decided that he just needed a rest. Over a day's worth of emotional stress had taken its toll, so the Jeep pulled to the side of the road and went into an uneasy recharge for a few hours.

"Hey, buddy, why're you nappin' out here?" Came a familiar voice. An arm (one of similar size and weight) came to casually rest on his roof and fingers began to strum. "Don't want any of the park rangers to get mad, you know?"

Hound groaned and shrugged off Beachcomber's arm.

"Hey, now! What put _you_into such a b-bad mood? You're normally a cool cat, man."

"I just don't feel well, Beachcomber." Hound mumbled, sinking down on his shocks.

"Hmm... cyber-flu ain't never get ya down like this before. You wanna tell ol' BC what's weighin' down on your processors?"

The Jeep sighed and began the cumbersome process of transforming. He remained on his knees for a few moments when finished before standing up. He swayed a little from a circuit-ache.

"Can we walk and talk?" he asked weakly.

"_Dah-doo_sure thing, man."

Hound really didn't know where to start. He was slouched over and staring at the ground with arms folded over his chest. "You remember when I got called over to Tahoe about a month and a half ago?" he ventured uneasily.

"Mmhmm." Beachcomber nodded his blue head as they walked along the gravel road.

"Well, some stuff happened, and I ended up becoming friends with this human female."

"Mmhmm."

"She was smart, and funny, and cute..."

"Hey, whoa now, buddy. Is this goin' where I think it's goin'?"

Hound's spark chamber felt it was constricting. "Alright, you know what, let's talk about this some other time."

"I'm sorry, man, I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I'll shut up. You go on with your story."

The Jeep cast a sidelong glance at the buggy before heaving a great sigh and continuing. "Her legs were in bad shape from the landslide she'd got caught in, and I felt real bad for her. She was the outdoorsy type, you know? A real go-getter. And I could just tell that not being able to walk got to her. She never openly told me, but... I could tell she was depressed. And to top it all off, she was losing her job, so... I really wanted to help her in every way that I could. We really bonded for the time that I was there... and then I had to go. I missed her for those weeks up until the battle over in Portland. I really did."

"Hmmm," his companion rumbled. "So that's why you seemed so distracted for a while."

"Yeah, I guess." He shrugged. "Then the fight happened. Be glad you weren't there... it was awful."

"I'm always glad when I ain't fightin'."

"Four humans were killed, dozens were injured, Tracks, Cliffjumper, and Inferno all ended up in stasis-lock, and damage figures were in the 8 and 9 digits. It was really a terrible day for us. I... I just wanted to get away from everyone."

"_Bah-dum_so you went to go see this human of yours, right?"

Hound nodded. He was beginning to feel sick to his spark just thinking about it again. "I got to her house at around midnight or so... I don't remember. There were people over, so I waited for them to leave before I got closer. I don't think any of them had a clue that I existed, and it would have opened a whole different can of worms if I'd revealed myself."

"That's just how things are, man."

"Of course. So I waited 'til everyone left and went up the driveway. She came out... and..."

"And what?"

"I don't know. There was something different about her right off the bat. I don't really know what it was... and it had nothing to do with her drinking or being on her feet. But those things made it really hard to tell."

"Mmhmm."

"I just wanted to unwind with her... talk, like we'd done before, and relax. That's all I wanted to do. She, on the other hand. She wanted to drink." He paused here. "I was feeling pretty down about things, so I figured there'd be little harm in having a cube myself. I took out some high-grade and started on it. I was looking at her almost the whole time, though, and I saw her body language change with every drink she had. I don't know what to call it... sultry? I guess... the energon was starting to work through my system by that point, so it might have even been my imagination.

"I stopped after a single cube, though. Or at least I wanted to. I figured that I would stay until she went into recharge and just make my way here, but I guess that wasn't in the cards for me. I asked her to come over and sit by me since she was there, chugging this stuff called tequila off in the corner by herself, almost as if it were out of habit. Well, she stood up and walked over rather... uhm..." He was trying to pick words that wouldn't make him sound like a fool. "Eccentrically." He shrugged weakly. "I didn't want to overcharge myself, especially if I was heading back here in an hour or two. But she absolutely insisted I waste myself with her. She even did a toast." Hound clenched his jaw servos, dreading the next parts.

"And?"

"And... I don't know what came over me. It must have been the energon, but... I did a second cube."

"Dag, yo... just how processed was this stuff you were a-chuggin', now?"

"Wheeljack's strongest," he admitted shamefully. "But things seriously started to go downhill after that. I... we... augh!" Hound covered his head and kept his optics on his feet. He felt sick again.

"_Ba ba da..._never thought you to be the kinky type, man!" Hound winced. "But all jokin' aside... this wouldn'ta happened if the feelin's weren't there to begin with, ya know?"

"The feelings _were _there!" he blurted out, catching himself far too late.

"Ah, now see? We're makin' progress n' stuff, man."

"I know how I feel," he stated resolutely, though not quite so loud as his previous declaration. "And I... some part of me liked it too. I just liked it more than I wanted to and less than I should have. The energon, the alcohol, the fight... it messed everything up. I didn't have to do what I did to enjoy her company. I would have been perfectly happy just sitting there and talking..." His spark sank. "I just wanted to be friends with her."

"And what about the broad? Didn't just leave her hangin' like a no-good overload-n'-run sort of mech, right?"

Hound shot him an icy glare. "Primus, Beachcomber, of course not!" He folded his arms and stared straight ahead. "I woke up and didn't remember anything that happened until I saw her laying there on me, naked. Memory files came flooding in... the writing was on the wall. I panicked. When she woke up, she panicked too, picked up her stuff and left without saying a word."

"Hoosh, man, that's harsh... but can you blame her?"

"...no." Hound made a small noise. "I just want my friend back, Beachcomber. I can go without ever thinking of her in that way, or even touching her if it meant that we could come to terms with what we did and put it in the past." He shook his head and lowered his voice. "You should have seen her... the look on her face when she realized what'd happened. I was supposed to help her get her life back together, not slag it up even more."

"I think you're bein' too hard on yourself, man. I understand, you know, that you shouldn't a had that second cube, but then she shouldn't have been drinkin' herself into oblivion either. I think it might be fair to say that it was actually more her fault than yours, in fact."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"Alright, man, listen here." The blue and gray mech put a hand on Hound's shoulder to stop him so they could talk eye to eye. "I may not be your normal go-to bot for relationship advice, but I know a thing or two about what goes on in people's heads n' stuff. Now, I might be readin' between the lines a little too much, but it seems to me that this chick had something botherin' her real bad for a while... and when drinkin' her sorrows away didn't help none, she turned to you. I don't think that this problem was something that you could have done anythin' about to begin with, but I don't think she knew that."

Hound sighed. "I know what was bothering her... I guess I just didn't know it was bothering her that much. She seemed... not at ease, but... understanding, I guess? Of the way her life is heading now." He stopped for a moment to think, and then kicked at the gravel. Tiny pebbles went flying everywhere. "How could I be so stupid," he said, defeated. "How didn't I see that? It was right there the whole time... and I didn't see it. She was coming to me for help, and I was too stupid to realize how to give it."

"Naw, naw, man, that ain't what I'm sayin'. I'm thinkin' that, believe it or not, you were in the same buh-boat as her, you know?" Hound cast Beachcomber a weary look before turning his optics back to the ground. The buggy laid a hand on the Jeep's shoulder for emphasis as he continued. "All that rigmarole that you been dealin' with put you in the exact same place, man. You were going to her for help, and she didn't know it." He finished off with a pat to Hound's shoulder armor. "The universe is a hard teacher, man, and it doesn't spare anybody. We're all like, little machines in the big scheme of things."

There was a hefty pause as it all sank in. Beachcomber, even with his slow-as-molasses jive about the universe, was making the most sense that Hound had heard in a while.

"How do I fix this?"

"Unfortunately man, I don't think I can help you there. That's something you're gonna have to work out yourself, you know. And honestly, I'm not too sure if this _can _be fixed... kind of like that landslide, you know? Except that you got your legs all mangled up in it too."


	8. For What It's Worth

_Just wanted to thank everyone for the kind (and comprehensive!) reviews. Particularly Elariel and Okami-chan. And as for the comments on the "realism"... I guess I just have this fascination with taking something that's been done horribly over and over again, and try to do it right. After all, aren't Transformers so much more interesting when portrayed as realistically as possible? :)_

* * *

_Imagine that, _Hound thought to himself as he quietly went about his field work near Yellowstone lake with a small band of human geophysicists and surveyors. _Things actually _do _make practical sense somewhere in Beachcomber's head._

The Jeep had not been particularly inclined toward social interaction for the past several days, and this made the scientists around him a little uneasy. He honestly didn't blame them, noticing how much easier they worked with Beachcomber despite his preference for quietude.

Hound was trying his best to engross himself in his work to keep him from trying to dissect the situation and subject it to his problem-solving habits any further. He needed to leave well enough alone.

To his surprise, the tracker had discovered that his partner seemed to enjoy chatting it up with the human scientists after dark, though. Beachcomber truly enjoyed telling them stories of his adventures on other worlds and the sorts of landscapes he'd seen. The humans, whose demographics varied wildly, would sit, enraptured by the old buggy's recollections of strange planets, insurmountably distant from their own pale blue dot. Some of them would take notes.

"...the rocks on RB-20416 were greener than a key lime pie on St. Patrick's Day, you know..."

The green mech would often sit in the vicinity of these sessions and listen. Oh, how he would listen. His face was learning how to smile again, and hearkening to Beachcomber's choice of vocabulary was good practice. Astrid was beginning to occupy less and less of his processing until he was only thinking of her here and there through the day.

"...and _doobie-doo_, you should've seen the lava flows on Junti-3..."

It saddened him deeply to remember what she told him through the steam of the shower that morning. It hurt, it really did. But what could he do? Hound had tried to mend their friendship, and she wanted no part of it. He began to think about what it would have been like if none of this even happened...

"...unfortunately, the rocky crust on RB-7114 was hidden under 14 miles of ice tougher than selenium steel..."

If they weren't going to ever speak again, why couldn't they at least have parted ways on good terms? Oh, right: the entire mishap that ruined it to begin with.

"Ex...excuse me, Hound, but you're er- sitting on my files..."

The Jeep was shaken from his depressing thoughts by the voice of a young man (the UCLA graduate student, he remembered) standing beside him. There was a look of uncertainty on his face as he gazed at the metal giant seated there on the ground. For some reason, Hound didn't get self-conscious this time like he usually did around humans. Normally, the good-natured bot would have smiled kindly and made some small joke while simultaneously reassuring the nervous squishy that he was totally harmless.

"Oh... I'm really sorry," he said, emotion struggling to enter into his voice. Hound stood up from where he was seated on the ground and, lo and behold, a lightly crumpled manila folder stuffed with sheaves of paper lay there in the dirt. It was labeled _Virtual Core Sample Data_, with a sector number and date. Oh that's right... he helped the team gather than information two days prior... but how it ended up on the ground was a question he didn't even care about pondering.

With tentative fingers, the mech grasped the folder, brushing the dirt from it, and handed it to the grad student.

"Th-thanks..." was the murmur of a reply before he walked briskly away, head down.

Hound sighed.

Just then, though, something happened that the green mech would never have seen coming. It was a text message from none other than Astrid. His respiratory system kicked into high gear as he tried to figure out just why she decided to talk to him again. Was she making amends? Was she only getting angry at him again? She didn't seem like the grudging, spiteful kind... so what did she need to tell him? After a long time, Hound opened the file.

_You need to leave Yellowstone ASAP._

Wait, what?

Hound read it once more.

_You need to leave Yellowstone ASAP._

So... she'd opened communication between them once more only out of necessity. Of course. He sat there, pushing aside his disappointment, and was instead dumbfounded by the cryptic message. Why did he need to leave? Unfortunately, the only way he could extract more information out of her was to reply.

_What's going on?_

Hound remained suspended in pensive silence as he waited for a response. He was forced to wait several minutes.

_Got a visit from 2 guys a few days ago asking about my accident. could tell they were trying to pry info from me. didn't tell them anything about u, but didn't seem convinced, so they left. don't know how they got my addy, but... my email acct. was hacked this morning. i think they know where u are._

_Who's 'they'?_

_Don't know. band of conspiracy theorists, maybe._

Hound's mouth fell open for a moment, before standing up and walking straight over to Beachcomber, who had taken a break from his storytelling to walk around in the peaceful darkness surrounding the trailers. If there was one thing that he absolutely loved about nature in all its secluded glory (aside from everything else about it), was the complete silence it was capable of. Unfortunately, this was not a moment Hound was able to savor.

"Beachcomber," he whispered once he was within audio-shot of the geologist. "I think we've got a 306 on our hands." His optics darted back over to the temporary headquarters where the research crew was happily chatting and working away, the glow of their laptop screens illuminating their faces.

The buggy turned to face him, visor reflecting the moonlight like the flash of a knife. "Dag... really? How'd you figure that?"

Hound looked away. "..."my" human," he admitted, accompanying the first word with the gesticulative representation of quotation marks. "I think some anti-government conspiracy group tried to get to her, expecting to find me. When she didn't fork over any information, seems they hacked her email, probably wiretapped her house... but even just that will give them more than enough to lead them here. I know the park rangers have us in a quarantine a mile wide, but I don't think that'll keep them out."

"Well, I'll be slagged..." Beachcomber muttered, stroking his jaw servos contemplatively. "You think it's the same group that's been on our tails since that incident back in '91? They always seemed a bit aggressive and... _overzealous_to me, you know."

"I think these guys seem pretty aggressive about tracking us down. I wouldn't be surprised." Hound leaned back against the trunk of an old conifer, rubbing at the dermal plating around his optic sensors. "And in all honesty, it doesn't matter which humans are after us. _All_306's require that we lie low until the threat is gone."

"Where do we go, man? Do we just leave these ssscientists here? Research grants take some major moolah, and bailin' on our team seems pretty jive to me."

"I don't want them to get caught up in this..."_  
_"Yeah, we wouldn't want that, now... I guess we don't have any other options, then?"

Hound shook his head. "No. I'm sure they'll understand, though."

With heavy sparks, the two mechs returned to the cabin to share the unfortunate news with their human partners.

_Thanks for the tip,_the jeep sent, figuring it wouldn't be polite to leave Astrid hanging. To his surprise, though, she replied.

_Is... everything Ok?_

_It's nothing we haven't dealt with before. Beachcomber and I just have to make ourselves scarce for a little while is all._

_Ok._

_Are you okay?_

_A little shaken, but realized they didn't steal any of my bank info or anything so i'm feeling better. probably cancel my cards just in case, tho. thx for asking._

"Beachcomber," Hound said, stopping. "You go tell the team what's going on. I've got a conversation to wrap up here."

"Sure thing, man."

The green mech returned to his chat.

_Do you mind if I test something real fast?_

_Test... what?_

_Hold on._

Hound took a moment to send a signal to her landline phone, and a few seconds later, he tried the same thing with her internet connection. A little probing around was all it took to confirm his earlier suspicion. His frown deepened.

_They've tapped your house._

_WHAT?_

_They probably came back after you'd gone to bed and bugged you._

_U fucking kidding me? i'n getting out of here and calling the cops._

_That'd probably be a good idea... where will you go?_

_IDK... Staying with anyone I kno would rouse 2 much suspicion. maybe i'll go camping for the weekend._

He thought for a moment.

_Pack up. We'll meet you._

_What? y? we're 2 far from each other for it to be worth it._

_If you're bugged, they might follow you. This group is aggressive in their inquisition, and I don't want you alone in the wilderness again. We all know what happened the last time you did that._

_if they follow me, wouldn't you 2 being there defeat the whole purpose of going into hiding to begin with?_

_Do you remember me telling you about a certain Ryan Manning?_

_Yes?_

_I didn't tell you that he was administered a lethal dose of sodium pentothal by an unauthorized visitor while he was in the hospital for a leg amputation. The resulting hypotension killed him. Might have read about it in the paper, but the young man responsible was sent to prison for murder. His organization didn't ever approve of such measures and ultimately disowned him after his conviction, but still. I don't like what the Xeno-Hunters do to people for the sake of bringing the unknown into the public eye. They're dangerous. If they want me, they need to leave you out of this. And if they don't, then they'll have to get past me anyways. And I'll make sure that they don't walk away from it with any evidence whatsoever._

_Where am i meeting u_

Human "truth seekers" had always posed a problem to the Autobots, ever since the Decepticon attack on a Portland power plant some 19 terran years prior. Just a few kids with video cameras and an overdeveloped sense of adventure were their only adversary for some time; that is, until a grave mistake nearly blew their cover in 1991. 

A small scuffle between the two factions had resulted in Skyfire sitting at the business end of Bombshell's cerebro-injector, but somehow the bug went undetected during Ratchet's analysis and for several weeks no one encountered any behavioral changes in the scientist. While on a routine scouting mission however, Skyfire had somehow found himself circling in the airspace over Groom Lake, Nevada, having absolutely no control over his own physical actions. The panicked SOS from the massive jet caused quite a stir at Autobot HQ, so Optimus quickly gathered up his best tacticians to try and solve the problem. Unfortunately, before any action could be taken to help their comrade, Skyfire had warranted himself some rather unwanted attention from the military installation 35,000 feet below, and before anyone could utter a single "frag it!", three F-15s were hot on his afterburners. Still unable to control himself and bound by protocol not to vocally communicate with humans, the scientist was promptly shot down. This seemed to destroy the cerebro-shell, but by the time he was able to gain control of his systems once again, he was buried under several feet of hot, desert soil and extremely damaged from the crash. The real trouble was that he had to transform in order to unearth himself. It was either that, or risk being overtaken by humans. The latter, as far as Optimus was concerned, was not even an option.

Skyfire had been in robot mode for less than twenty seconds before quickly transforming back and rocketing up to a sub-orbital altitude to escape the American jets. Three hours later, and he was safely taking refuge in the skies over Antarctica.

He'd been in robot more for less than twenty seconds. Quite terrifying, however, was the realization that twenty seconds was far more than any human needed in order to document the incident. Four grainy, blurry photos surfaced, making rounds in every single UFO-enthusiast circle around the globe. In retrospect, everyone was grateful most of the internet hadn't existed quite yet, but still, it was putting pressure on every crew member of the Ark. Skyfire was mortified and refused to leave HQ for the better part of a year under any circumstance. Everyone decided that it was ultimately for the best. The US military attempted to counter this with a barrage of press releases, claiming that the entire mishap was a black ops training exercise. Fortunately, the excuse generated buzz all on its own, and much political drama on behalf of the republican president ensued, leaving the thought of alien robots in the minds of the only people who cared much to begin with: UFO hunters. And no one really listened to them anyways.

Xeno-Hunters formed because of that incident. Their manifesto was to shed light on the covert activity going on around Groom Lake, and find evidence supporting the harboring of extraterrestrials there on behalf of the US government. Gathering solid evidence to support all their theories was an immensely tall order, but the crazies that comprised the bulk of the group were up to the challenge.

It turned out that the buzz caused by the training exercise excuse was in actuality a rather beneficial distraction. Both the public and the press were completely unaware of the government's new attempts to locate and have secret talks with whatever their Air Force pilots had encountered circling over Area 51. The process took many years, but the partnership with the Autobots and United States military was complete under President Clinton. In exchange for fuel and efforts to keep them secret from the geneal public, Optimus Prime allowed military and NASA scientists glimpses at the technology Cybertron had to offer. And this was yet something else that both sides had to keep under serious wraps for fear of organizations like Xeno-Hunters uncovering their dirty little secret. From a national standpoint, publicly acknowledging the existence of extraterrestrials would do far more harm than good. At the time, at least. And so, the alliance remained relatively covert for a few years. That is, until reports of dark, flying triangles started to flood the media. Most people were convinced that these unknown aircraft were part of the military "black project" program, though there were (as always) some who maintained they were of alien origin. This hype emboldened the Xeno-Hunters into taking more action, and ever since the Autobots have been hard pressed to stay one step ahead.

It was about 2004 when the giant robots had finally been publicly acknowledged by the president after people got wind of the government's various mechanical helpers after increasingly numerous civilian sightings. The secret was finally out, though there was still so much mystery surrounding them that it seemed there were now more questions to be asked than even before. Xeno-Hunters were fueled by this information, broadcasting that they'd been right all along, and that they demanded the government to fess up to their other long-held secrets, like the truth about Area 51, and whether or not the giant robots were alien or man-made. The president had thus far refused to comment.

And such things have been for the past few years. Exceedingly, yet necessarily complicated. It was difficult, trying to remain an enigma despite simultaneously attempting to assimilate into American culture. It was a trying task, though all the mechs who cared enough to work alongside humans were doing well. The conspiracy groups did not help in the least, though.

Despite all of this, however, it didn't stop _some_of them from making friends.

_We'll meet up in Elko, Nevada, alright?_

_Sure... i'll try 2 be there at 3pm tomo._

_Sounds good._

Hound was anxious as he and his friend hit the road at about midnight. This whole new ordeal was not something that he was expecting at all. (Well, in all honesty, he was always expecting it, but he just wasn't expecting for it to happen at such a time, and for it to involve such an individual.) And the more he thought about it, the more he sunk into a depression, once again berating himself for messing up Astrid's life more than he was fixing it. The Jeep just hoped that he was doing the right thing _this_time.

"You alright there, daddy-o? Still pretty quiet." Beachcomber was inquiring over a private channel between them as they drove west on Interstate 80, the glow of morning nothing more than a whisper on their rear windows.

"I'm not sure if I want to see her again... well, at least so soon."

"Heh, well aren't you the one who _b-buh _suggested it to begin with?"

"Yeah, I sort of did that thing that I do sometimes..." The Jeep trailed off.

But Beachcomber finished for him. "You mean that whole thing with thinkin' about other cats before yourself?"

His engine hitched lightly in lieu of a half-hearted chuckle. "I guess you could say that. But I mean, I don't know. I'm... I'm _embarrassed_, for lack of a better word. What is she going to do when she sees me? What if she won't talk to me unless she has to? Oh jeez, Beachcomber, I'm going to be a mess."

"Just cool your jets, man. Things are gonna happen how they're gonna happen, and you just need to roll with it. Dig? 'Sides... I think we've got worse jive to worry about than that. I know it's a real bummer that you two have to meet up again under such circumstances, but at least it's happening, you know?"

Hound considered this, and decided his partner in crime was yet again right about something. Perhaps Beachcomber was right about more things than anyone gave him credit for? The Jeep made a mental note to listen more carefully to his advice in the future. As good a friend as Trailbreaker was, he wasn't always capable of taking things as seriously as Hound would like, and the blue mech seemed to provide a refreshing perspective on things.

"Yeah... this isn't about me, or her. This is about setting things straight, and keeping those damn conspiracy nuts out of her life. If they've got a beef with us, they need to find a better way of doing it."

"Right on, man. I think you got it."

Elko, Nevada was still a few states away, but the two Autobots were making good progress. Hound was looking forward to returning to the desert; hopefully he would be able to enjoy the drive a little more this time around.


	9. Double Agent

This was **ridiculous.**

That was all Astrid could think about during the 5 hour drive to Elko. Well, there was that, and the paralyzing fear of anyone she knew finding out what was going on. She didn't want to see that damn robot again. In fact, she would be perfectly content to go the rest of her life without ever having to encounter another one of them. Nope! Not another one of them, or him, ever again.

...well, at least not so soon.

Her train of thought trailed backwards in time to, yet again, take a glimpse at where her mind was that horrible morning after. Waking up in the garage with him was probably one of the most terrifying moments of her short life. The shreds of memories left over from the night before was enough to induce waves of nausea from shame and horror. She wanted to scream, she wanted to tear out her hair, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. In fact, Astrid had done her best to accomplish the latter after wretching. Locking herself in the bathroom seemed like the most logical thing to do after an entire night of illogical things, despite the fact that he wasn't in the house to begin with. She felt absolutely disgusting. The taste of vomit fresh in her mouth, the smell of sex, sweat, liquor, and oil hanging thick in the air around her... she turned on a scalding hot shower and sat under the pounding jets of water for the better part of 2 hours, until the water got too cold to bear. Even then, she didn't feel clean enough. With nothing else she could do to help the distressing feeling, she threw on some sweats and slept the day away.

Astrid's mind hiccuped when she realized she'd skimmed over something... oh that's right, he'd come to the window to try and calm her down. Just remembering that fired her up again. Her pulse hastened, her eyes narrowed, and her foot felt heavier on the gas pedal. What right did he have to try and talk sense into her? What made him think, in all his vast, mechanized knowledge of everything, that talking would help the situation at all? Nothing either of them could say would help her reverse or at least forget what had happened. There was nothing that either of them could do, even in a sober state of mind, that would make the situation any better.

Didn't that damn robot understand what they did _meant_? It meant that she wasn't just nuts, but that she was, deep down, faulty. Something, no matter what it was, was fucked up, and it would merit therapy at _least_. Maybe something was wrong with her sexually? Maybe something was wrong with her emotionally? Maybe her father did something stupid to her at such a young age that she didn't even remember, and now that primal resentment has finally reared its ugly head. Maybe she suffered head trauma during the accident. Maybe...

Astrid decided to stop thinking lest she reduce herself to a smouldering pile of anger once again and do something stupid while driving. Taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down, she turned on the radio and glanced at the rear view mirror just to make sure that the only thing following her was a wide swath of empty highway.

Three more hours to go.

By the time the woman had passed the "Welcome to Elko" sign, standing just short of erect in the dry, dusty ground, Astrid had broken into a cold sweat. Her hands shook and her heart rate was a bit swifter than normal.

"I don't want to be here," was her soft mantra.

Astrid was trying to compare her apprehension to something else, and finally settled on surgery. It felt like she was about to go into some very invasive surgery... when reasoning with logic, she knew she had nothing to fear, and that she trusted the doctors and surgeons with the operation. It still didn't help.

When a yawning ache churned in her gut, she realized that her shaking was probably due to low blood sugar, and so decided to stop at the first fast food joint she came across. She also figured that she needed to stand up and get the blood flowing, so the Xterra was parked outside the first place that popped up: a Del Taco.

Food was ordered and eaten in pensive silence, though it wasn't rushed. She was deliberately taking her time, trying to stave off the inevitable as long as she could. There was that, and also, she didn't know exactly where she was to be meeting him. When Astrid was finished with her food, she remained in the booth, pretending to be preoccupied with her phone like any other twenty-something American girl. But then an idea came to her. What if she _didn't_go to meet them? What if she got in her car, and turned right around to stay in a motel somewhere? She looked back at the inanimate yellow 4x4 and the sparse camping gear hastily piled in the back seat. The thought was extremely tempting. In fact, a quick glance out the window revealed a Days Inn right across the street. She swallowed hard and went back to doing nothing.

Maybe ten minutes later, and her phone vibrated, letting her know a text message arrived. Astrid sighed.

_Where are you?_

She bit down on her lip, gnawing on the chapped skin. Her fingers hovered over the tiny keys, trying to summon courage.

_I'm staying in a motel tonite instead. thx 4 everything. good luck._

In a false display of bravado, she turned off her phone just after that and sat in the booth, heart beating in her throat. About thirty seconds later, though, she espied none other than a green Jeep and another off-road vehicle speed into the parking lot driveway. The blue SUV-looking thing backed into the space next to her car, and the Jeep slowed down to an almost predatory pace as it circled the building, finally coming to a stop on the section of driveway closest to her window. She ducked down. Her heart sought to leap out of her mouth, but she kept it in check with much effort. Her breathing was shallow as she gazed at the Jeep again. Upon close inspection, there was no driver.

Astrid calmed herself down, but that didn't stop her from throwing away her trash any less hastily on her way to the restroom. Just before she closed the door, she saw him circle around nearer to the front doors. The bathroom provided little comfort. The white walls, etched with unintelligible gibberish and painted with an ugly mural of graffiti were imposing. Astrid leaned against the brushed metal of the handicap railing, and hesitantly turned her phone back on.**  
**She was not surprised to find an unread text message.

_You need to come out._

The electronic device was promptly slipped into her bag, though she didn't move one inch.**  
**Why was she suddenly terrified of him again? Was she overreacting, or did she have every right to behave this way? She was acting like she'd had a one night stand with an axe-murderer. When in fact it was a (mostly) consensual act carried out by two (mostly) consenting... things.

"He's a fucking _alien_!" she found herself hissing to the myriad symbols scrawled on the wall. The bathroom made a poor courtroom, and the graffiti a poor jury. She wasn't going to get the verdict she wanted out of them, and in fact, seemed that they were trivializing the situation.

Maybe she needed a little trivializing.

Out of ammo and tired of running, she forfeited her spot in the restroom and slowly walked outside.

Astrid's eyes immediately fell upon the pugnacious form of the Jeep, silent, as she nearly tiptoed past. The wide, round headlights seemed to follow her with disapproval all the way to the Xterra. It was an eerie moment, walking past him like that, but as soon as she started the engine to her own car, the two bots headed out of the parking lot. She assumed they wanted her to follow.

Apprehension tightened every muscle and ligament in her body, as she struggled to conjure up anger for him. She was able to do so, but it wasn't as strong as she was hoping for. Christ... what was _with_ her?

They drove for another ten minutes, and the woman could hear messages being sent to her phone, consciously ignoring them. They drove, turning left here, right there, until they came on a small campground nestled in the foothills of some stunted mountains. Before approaching the front booth, however, the Jeep and blue vehicle pulled over. Wondering what they were up to, she pulled over behind them. Immediately, both of their left hand blinkers went on. What the hell were they trying to say? Frustrated, she threw open her door and walked up to the driver-side window of the green vehicle. It took immense amounts of effort to look casual.

"What are you doing," she hissed at him. The window rolled down for effect, revealing the holographic driver she hated so much, toothpick still protruding from between its pearly whites.

"Check in for us," he said in a very quiet voice. "There's a reservation under your name. Pick a spot as far from everything and anyone as you can manage."

Swallowing, Astrid strode back to her car and pulled up in front of them.

Some time later, she returned to the front with the desired camping spot. Two pairs of invisible optics, glowing with a cold and calculating light, were on her back; she could feel them. When she waved over the two mechs, the ranger informed her that each campsite was allowed two vehicles, and every one after that was ten dollars per night. Biting back a string of livid comments, she forfeited two fives in return for another parking stub. The Jeep rolled his window down to receive his stub, and she tossed it inside without pausing in her stride. The blue one received a slightly kinder treatment.

Astrid had made sure that their site was up against the mountains and had the most tree cover as possible. She pulled into one of the two available spots and immediately began to unpack her things, pretending to not notice the Jeep pull in beside the yellow car.

A strange sense of panic swept through her when she heard a car door open and close behind her. Goosebumps appeared in a subtle wave on her arms, the fine hairs on her neck standing on end. She didn't hear footsteps in the dirt, or hear the movement of clothing, or feel that any physical thing had actually drawn closer, but when she turned around to see a man standing there, Astrid couldn't help but let out a burst of a gasp, mingled with unintelligible sounds. Her heart near leaped out of her chest. Fortunately, it didn't take her long to recognize the toothpick, cowboy hat, and aviators. Astrid glared at herself in the reflection of the sunglass lenses, before turning to the Jeep.

"I refuse to speak to you through this thing," she stated firmly before going back to unpacking her tent. Out of the corner of her eye, the hologram drew near. Christ, she hated that thing!

To her surprise, it spoke. Well, not really spoke, as the mouth didn't move, but a voice (_his _voice) projected from the proper areas of the body. "How else am I supposed to talk to you? Besides, I don't want people to think that you're here all alone with three cars."

Astrid snorted.

"Look..." His voice had held a certain tone of stiff professionalism the entire day, but he dropped it just then, and the the soft tenor she was used to returned. "I know... that you..." the fake thing ventured.

Astrid stopped what she was doing with a sharp exhale and faced the holoform, though her eyes darted from the aviators to the Jeep. "We'll discuss this later." She honestly felt like a complete idiot talking to this... this _puppet_. It wasn't him, and both of them knew it. Not only that, but even thinking about discussing the little mishap made her uneasy. "Don't you have other things to worry about anyway?"

There was no point in searching the holographic face for any signs of emotion; they weren't there. It wasn't designed for true interaction with a human, it was designed to be a finishing touch on one big costume and nothing more. Astrid sighed and turned away from it.

Only half an hour managed to pass when she found herself laying down in the 3-man tent, gazing up at the stark white polyester. A mature Pinyon pine cast an intricate spatter of shadows across the tent, but it was not enough to hold her attention for long. She brought a hand up to massage at the inner corners of her eyes in attempts to stave off a headache, but she knew it would be to no avail.

Why was she here?

The obvious answer was that her house wasn't safe to live in until a police investigation cleared things up, but... there was something else. Something more. Like a switch, Astrid turned her attention to her legs, becoming aware of them. She felt them over, took inventory with her mind's eye. The faintest of stubble from not having shaved, the weakness of her right leg, the fresh scars on both limbs, the stitches having been removed with her cast were all taken account of. The more she lay there in silence, listening to the occasional bird or wail of a child on the other side of the campground, the more she remembered how depressed she was. The word felt alien in her mind; it was something that she never thought to associate with herself. She realized that it'd been going on for some time, and the tryst did not help in the least. Knowing him seemed to just make things worse, as a matter of fact.

_We are all machines..._

Before she knew it, 5 o'clock was fast approaching.

_I'm judging for the both of us._

She recalled their interactions a month or so before. Light, fun, and understanding. Deep, deep down, she wanted that again.

"Astrid." Hearing her name immediately brought her out of the depths of her own churning thoughts, though her eyes remained fixed on the shadows on the tent. His voice was gentle still, though if she squinted, she could hear a sense of calculation in the tone. How many times did she have to tell him that she didn't want to talk about it? Astrid was growing exceedingly exasperated, and his persistence only made her sick and angry. The woman opened her mouth to speak, but he interrupted. "You should think about calling Tahoe law enforcement about your house before the night's over if you haven't already."

That wasn't what she expected to hear. His words were chosen carefully and spoken so unobtrusively that, if she didn't know better, he sounded as if he was feeling just as shitty as her.

"_You_made the first move," she whispered. The words were so faint that she barely heard them. A little more time passed before she felt like moving to reach her phone. To her immense dismay, there was no reception in the valley, so with no energy left for hesitation, she tore open the flap to her tent, strode right on past the two holograms sitting at the table, and was headed for the main entrance. It was a good ten minute walk, and another 5 minutes of being on the phone with 411 before she made it through to the South Tahoe police dept.

"Hi, yes," she began, putting on her best voice. "I'm calling because I have reason to believe that the land line and internet at my home has been tampered with, and that I am being stalked... no, as soon as I suspected something, I vacated the premises... I'm staying with friends, yes... Monday morning? That's great... right. Thank you very much, Officer Sherman. A claim? I'll get back in contact with you Monday, as I'm out of town right now... My name is Astrid Schneider. Yes, of course. Thank you, you too."

Click.

At least that was taken care of now. Or at least, as much as she could accomplish without visiting the precinct.

After hanging up and slipping the phone into her pocket, she gazed at the whole of the campground, and decided that it was the perfect opportunity to have a few extra minutes to herself. The young woman started the trek back to her site, but she deliberately took the longest way to get there, and walked at practically a snail's pace.

Nevada had a different smell than California, she realized. The vegetation was similar, but there was just something else... a particular dryness, perhaps, that lingered in the air and ripened the smells of all else that sought to travel on the wind. The desert just had a unique feel to it. To many it was a harsh and unforgiving place, but to her, ever the nature-lover, it was where the true colors of the earth were revealed, worn away by centuries of wind and sand so that there was nothing left but the pure foundation. Day hikes in Arizona made her feel welcome to be human; at the time, she doubted that being anything else would have allowed her to feel the warm embrace of something so often associated with cold lifelessness as rock.

_As metal..._

Suddenly, her little detour wasn't long enough.

Astrid had returned at least an hour later after having abandoned the campground for a small walk in the hills. Getting out and walking felt better than she ever could have predicted, and when she thought about it, it surprised her to find that this was the first time that she'd actually done so since getting her cast off. Really? Weeks had truly gone by without her really knowing... up until this morning, Astrid hadn't really left the house.

But all in all, she felt considerably better after walking. She also managed to avoid thinking about him for the most part. Picking at a scab interrupted the healing process, after all.

The sun was very low in the sky when she finally returned. The two holograms jumped up (almost as if they were human) upon seeing her. "Where have you been?" the voice seemed to come more from the Jeep than his holo, urgency evident in his failing to project the sound more convincingly.

"I'm fine. I just went for a little hike."

If they'd said anything more, she didn't hear them. She was hungry, and getting a fire going before nightfall was the current priority. Before long, a blazing hearth had become the center of the camp site. Astrid pulled up a chair and stared into the orange light. There was a Coleman mug, blue and speckled, loosely grasped between her hands. She saw the holos get up from where they were seated to join her around the fire. Camping chairs fizzled into existence, massless, yet strong enough to support the weightless bodies now seated upon them. The sight almost made Astrid smile, but then she remembered who she'd be smiling at.

The silence, in a strange way, was almost content. Almost. There was something hanging in the air, though it wasn't obvious what it was, to her surprise. They all seemed to be waiting for something. Pushing that thought to the side, however, she reached forward with a fork in hand to pluck a ballpark frank off the grill before it got a little too "cajun" for her liking. She stuck it in a bun with a drizzle of mustard before wolfing it down. Two more were devoured in a similar fashion when Astrid turned her eyes upward.

Stars. Billions upon billions of them littered the velvety blanket of the night sky...

_This planetary system, this galaxy, are cosmic machines._

"Cybertron is about an arc second from Sirius." A voice, deep and smooth broke the silence. She glanced over at the second hologram. Should it have been human, he would have been immediately recognizable as an old beach bum. Long hair tied back, a short scraggly beard, a hooded sweatshirt faded from either over-washing or too much exposure to the sun, trashed cargo shorts, and sandals spoke volumes about the blue robot. "You can't see our sun, though. It was a white dwarf back in the day... and you know how those cats get dimmer like there ain't no tomorrow."

Astrid nodded and turned her attention back to the sky, looking for Sirius.

"How far?"

"Lightyears, little lady. Lightyears..."

She stole a glance at the man behind the aviators and was disappointed to see the facial expression unchanged. Feeling a little bold, her eyes darted over to the Jeep, and she noticed that his chassis was sitting lower on his suspension than normal. She turned back to the stars.

She and Beachcomber softly discussed Cybertron and the night sky for a long time; all the while the Jeep remained silent, his holo unwavering in its impersonal stolidity. She wondered for a brief moment about the state of the hologram should he fall asleep. Astrid was falling asleep herself, as a matter of fact. Camping did that; without the light and noise of the city, sleep was easier to come by. Beachcomber seemed to notice her eyelids struggling to stay up, and excused himself.

"You mind takin' the first shift, man? I'm gonna catch me some, uh, some zees..."

"No problem," he said. It startled her to find that he was still very much awake after not having said anything for the better part of 2 hours.

The fire was dying now. She hadn't added any logs to keep it going, and the decreasing light wasn't helping her fatigue. "You know what, I think I'm going to be hitting the sack too," Astrid announced, rising from her chair to put the campsite away. Squirrels had a habit of running amok in the early morning.

"Hey, well now there's no need to end the party just 'cause old Beachcomber's calling it quits, you know..."

Was he doing what she thought he was doing? "No, no... I'm getting tired. It's after ten anyways. I usually don't stay up much longer than this when I camp."

"Well," he said, and she felt compelled to finish his sentence with 'I tried...', but he finished it himself at length. "I ain't the kind of 'bot to argue with a lady... or a anyone, really. You know better than I do what's best for you. Catch you cats on the flipside."

"Goodnight, Beachcomber."

Hearing his voice sound with hers at just that moment was startling to say the least. A silence passed as she expected to hear the Jeep say something, but he was silent. The embers from the dying fire reflected in the sunglasses under the cowboy hat. Still, the face was changeless; it was unsettling. Astrid nodded at the quietude between them and headed for her tent.

"Wait..." came the quietly mechanized voice. There it was. She stopped walking and turned around to find the hologram, to her relief, gone. "Can we please talk? Just let me explain myself before you decide never to speak to me again. Please." Astrid remained where she stood, completely still, as his words turned over in her head. She thought about it for a moment, the bile beginning to rise in her. She didn't owe him anything, did she?

Thoughts came in from their first encounter. She hadn't even seen him, but he was there, digging her out for the WSAR crew. He accompanied them all to the hospital, checked up on her afterward...

Yes, she owed him. Everything, in fact. But for now, at least, she owed him this.


	10. Hope

_Lol, short chapter is short.  
_

* * *

A weight, like stones, settled in Astrid's gut. It suddenly occurred to her just how much courage he was being forced to summon up in order to do this. _He_was the brave one. She was the coward.

Distantly she watched as he opened the back door and rearranged the seats to form a flat, open space. With a thin-lipped frown, Astrid looked downward before walking up and getting inside. The door shut with a soft thud. The human found herself sitting cross-legged on the industrial-grade upholstery, staring at her fingers as they nervously picked at each other. Silence in the cab was viscous and absolutely deafening; so much so that it was almost uncomfortable to breathe.

"I..."

The mechanized voice began, but as soon as he trailed off, the hungry, fluid quiet filled all the spaces back up again. Astrid was near drowning in it, but she'd never tell him.

"I can't say that I've had many proud moments lately," he said at length. The voice was fragile and tentative, struggling against the current, but he continued on. "No matter how hard I try, it seems like I have trouble making the right choices these days..." A sigh filled the Jeep interior, accompanied by the sinking of the vehicle closer to the ground. Astrid's eyes remained fixed on her own hands as she listened to him. "I know that... I know that it's a little late in the game to ask for you to forgive me, and I don't expect you to. I just want to say that... I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, I just... I just wanted to help." He paused here. "Slaggit, I shouldn't have even come back. It just ended up messing everything up..."

Astrid sat, motionless, wordless, turning his words over in her head. A tenseness emanated from around her. Frankly, she was unsure of how to feel. Toward him, at any rate. All the contempt that she could muster anymore was now directed at herself: her own actions, her own ego, her own myopic sensibilities. It wasn't that she realized it then, no; it was that she suddenly admitted to herself that Hound had absolutely nothing to do with any of the unfortunate events that transpired in the previous weeks. This wasn't a revelation by any means, though out of nowhere she was suddenly capable-and willing-to accept the consequences of her actions.

The tiniest shudder drew her out of her thoughts for a brief moment.

"You don't want to talk," he said in a quiet voice. "I understand." The door nearest her slowly opened with a click, and the smell of campfires rushed in. "Thanks for hearing me out, though. I appreciate it."

Astrid turned her head to look out the door for a brief moment before abruptly reaching for the handle and drawing it shut, whereupon she assumed her cross-legged position once again.

"As a friend," she began. "You're allowed to let me know when I've gone astray. You... help me fix things. Not fix them for me. You aren't obligated to do that, nor should you _feel_obligated to do that." Her voice was slow and soft. It didn't carry by any means, instead being absorbed into the interior of the Jeep. "And by those standards, I couldn't have asked for a better friend. You're a compassionate soul, Hound. I never meant to drag you into all this unnecessary drama... I was the one who let _you_down." Astrid wasn't so sure that's exactly what she meant to say, but she did her best and that's what came out.

It felt strange to be speaking to him in such a business-like manner... though it was as if she wouldn't be able to tell him everything she meant to if her emotions came too far into play. She hoped he'd understand.

"...really?"

Astrid suddenly felt restless, and as a result, began to pick at her fingernails.

"Really," she said in a low voice. Normally, in a conversation such as this, now would be the time to raise her head and make eye contact, but it just wasn't possible at that point. She sighed. "I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Somehow, she felt him smile. "I did that a long time ago. Can you forgive _me_?"

"I'd be a fool not to."

The woman scooted over then to rest her back against the front passenger seat, gazing out the rear window. There was a contented silence as both of them got used to the idea of each other again, but there was one tiny thing still gnawing at Astrid's insides, and now, she felt, was the time to say it.

"For the record," she ventured, tone acclimating itself to friendliness once again. "You _are_an alien."

The Jeep shifted a small amount, and suddenly she was terrified that he might have taken it the wrong way. She swallowed.

"I beg your pardon, but... _you're_the alien here, Miss Human."

There was nothing she could do to stop the soft chuckle that escaped her. "Then I suppose that makes us both aliens."

He laughed too. "Then I suppose it does."

A pause.

"You saved my life, didn't you?"

"I hope I did."

Another pause.

"Hey, did you want to go get your pillow and sleeping bag? You can uh... I mean, you're more than welcome to, if you... if it's not too soon, that is..."

Astrid smiled a bit at his stumbling. "Sure," she said. "It's probably going to hover around 80 the whole night anyways. I don't sleep so well when it's hot."

With that, she reached for the door, but let out a yelp when she saw a face looking at her through the window. He knocked on the pane and let his lips curl up in a nasty smile.

"_Well, hello in there. Mind stepping out?_"


	11. Children of the Night

A microsecond was all it took for Hound to realize what was going on.

Slaggit, slaggit, slaggit! He berated himself in his processors as he trained every single sensor he had on the human that was invading his personal space. It also didn't take him long to see that there were more of them around the campsite.

"H-Hound..." he heard Astrid whisper, mimicking a ventriloquist as she stared at the invader in shock. "It's one of the men that came to my house..."

"Just... just stay calm," he said to her through the sound system, equally as quiet.

_BEACHCOMBER!_ He sent through a private channel. The Jeep wasn't so used to sending such strong signals at bots, but he was a little angry at his friend for having slipped into recharge and not keeping watch like he'd said he would. _Wake up, you oil toker, we've got company._

_Wha... huh?_

_Company, Beachcomber! Company! By Primus, I need your help here!_

_Well I'll be slagged! Sorry man, the zees caught me by surprise._

Hound decided not to reply or else he might start getting even angrier at him when it was totally unnecessary. The situation, however, was a dire one, and needed to be dealt with pronto.

He started by strengthening the tint on his windows to such an opacity that would make it near impossible to see inside without a flashlight.

"Hmm," the man, in his late thirties, said. He removed an old baseball cap from the crown of his head and wiped the sweat from his brow before putting it back. "Gonna make it harder than it needs to be, huh?" Hound was getting irritated by how loud his voice was... he was _sure _that passerby would think him crazy for talking to an empty vehicle. "Well that's just fine. We came prepared."

"There's more?" Astrid squeaked. He felt her sitting motionlessly.

"Three more of them under those trees over there."

_Hey, man, you got like, a plan or something?_

_Alright. How about we... _Hound was going to have to improvise. _Uhm... well, they don't have a single shred of proof that they'd targeted the right cars. As far as they know, we could be someone's property. Let's try the holos before giving ourselves away yet. If someone comes along-_

_"_Can't we just call the police, o-or the sheriff? None of us has to actually deal with them, right?"

_"_They haven't done anything wrong, yet. You also don't own me- I don't have any license or registration to show, not to mention the holo... it would be a huge mess."

_I'll pull out just mine, for now. I don't think they've spotted you yet._

_Good thinkin', man._

This was going to be tough. Routing most of his energy to his holo generator (it was significantly more powerful than that any of the other Autobot troops, so he had to be careful how much gas he let it guzzle), he picked a spot to make his entrance.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing!" A man in a black shirt and cowboy hat walked into the campsite. Hound payed close attention to the down-turned corners of his mouth and furiously knitted eyebrows. He'd chosen to leave the sunglasses off for effect, revealing a pair of eyes as green as the Jeep's paint job.

The creeper in the baseball cap stepped away from him and jerked his head in the direction of the voice. "Well I'll be damned," he chuckled after an initial moment of shock. "This here your Jeep, sir?"

Uh oh. Hound didn't like the tone in his voice.

"Damn right it is," said the hologram. It felt strange to be referring to himself as an inanimate object. "Now walk away or I'm calling the cops."

"Hey, whoa now! I ain't done anything to your vehicle, sir. I was just admirin' the body work."

Hound remained silent, and his holo remained angry.

The man in the baseball cap walked out from around the car and approached the man in the cowboy hat. "That's a mighty fine custom job you got done, there. And that color... I never seen that color on such a model before." His voice was slow and almost taunting. Hound felt like he was being backed into a corner. "Where'd you go to get all this custom work done? I'd like to check 'em out myself."

The holo smouldered. "It's none of your business, sir. Now if you'd kindly-"

"None of my business?" the man said with a chuckle. "I'm sorry, but... you hear about the freedom of information act, sir?" He suddenly got in real close, and his voice dropped. "This sort of thing should be _everyone's business_, Mr. Experiment."

Hound didn't like the man being this close to his holo. That meant he had to manipulate the mouth and fully articulate every word he was saying. The Jeep knew that these guys weren't going to leave from being asked at this point, and so forwent the complicated puppetry involved in making his hologram look like it was speaking.

"Enough of this," he said in a low voice. His holo's mouth remained shut. "Leave us alone or there will be hell to pay." Rarely was Hound ever mad enough to be able to threaten someone.

The man's eyes opened wide before composing himself and fixing a crooked smile on his face. "Looks like we found 'em, boys." With a renewed boldness, the man reached forward as if to grab the holo's face, but like Astrid, found that his fingers touched nothing but warm air. He paused for just a second at this, before spitting around and facing the car again. The holo dissolved, not rendered useless.

"Fraggit!" Hound cursed inside the cab.

"What?" Astrid said quietly. "What's going on?"

"He's got us. They only way to get 'em to leave now is a physical threat."

"You... you're going to transform?"

"I'm going to do everything I can to avoid that."

She fell silent.

"Cameras, you dumbasses, get the cameras!" the baseball cap-wearing man hissed to the trees behind him. Shadows began to move, and a few others appeared from the blackness.

_What now, man?_

_Anything we do now they'll be getting on camera._

"Astrid, can we get out of here?"

She shook her head. "Front gate closed at ten... no coming or going. They must've walked in."

_Let's see how long it takes them to get bored._

With that, Hound proceeded to sit perfectly still and silent, quietly casting holograms over his license plates in the likelihood that these goons would be snapping photos of every inch of him. He was glad that they hadn't yet seen Beachcomber parked about 50 yards away. Right now, the blue mech was a trump card.

_"_So care to tell us where you're from?" said the man, slowly pacing back and forth in front of the Jeep. "We've got you cornered," he smugly reminded them. "It's late, and you're in earshot of a hundred campers right now. Changing under these circumstances would be a big mistake, and you know it."

"What are you doing now?" his fare whispered.

"Try not to move... We're going to play dumb for a little while."

A few minutes passed while the four men studied the parked Jeep, waiting for any sign of sentience. Well, he wasn't going to give them any. Hound stewed in his processors. He knew that many humans were brash and stupid, (though he could definitely say the same about his own race) but this was just taking it too far. They had no right to do this! Invading the privacy of a complete stranger (not to mention the slag she'd been through with that accident) took some gall, and it was making the mech angry.

They'd taken to circling around him not so unlike a pack of wolves, and it took every ounce of will he had to keep himself from swinging his doors open in their faces.

_"_C'mon Mr. Experiment, don't tell me that you don't know what we're after here- that you can't sympathize with us. We just want the truth, is all. You know, facts. I'd think that your little ones and zeroes brain would be able to deal with facts best. Why, you might even have a physiological inclination toward telling the truth, wouldn't you agree?"

The ring leader's cadence just made him even more mad. This man was fantastic at being a considerable nuisance. He began to tap on the hood with a knuckle, causing Astrid's breathing to hasten.

"It's going to be okay," he said in a soft, very quiet voice.

"I hope so," she whispered.

"Alright," said the man in the baseball cap, tugging at the collar of his t-shirt. It was clear he was getting sick of waiting. "You wanna play hard? I can play hard." He reached into his pocked and produced something small and shiny. With a faint click, it doubled in length. He crouched down near one of Hound's wheel wells, pulling his arm back, when one of his henchmen came up and grabbed his shoulder.

This man was younger, and armed with a video camera. "Dan, what in the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed.

"What does it look like I'm doin'? I'm not leaving until we get something out of this thing."

"You're slashing the fucking _tires_, man! That chick knows what we look like! If we break any rules, she can send the fuzz after us!"

The man named Dan scowled and grit his teeth. "Have hunters ever given two shits about cops, Mark? They're fuckin' in on it too. We ain't stopping now. Not while we've got one cornered like this, no way." The younger man hesitated for just a moment, and Dan wrenched his arm away. "S'what I thought," he growled. With a mighty thrust of his right arm, he plunged the work knife deep into Hound's front right tire, and dragged it to the side. With a dull hiss, the thing went flat, and pain blossomed in what would have been Hound's right shoulder.

The mech let out a quick, muffled growl inside his cab, feeling Astrid clutch tighter to the front driver's seat in what might have been an effort to make him feel better. A moment later though, and it happened again, and again. The Jeep shuddered, trying to ignore the sting.

_You okay, man? What's goin' on?_

_They're slashing my tires..._

_That's jive, man! Don't let 'em do that!_

_I don't want to transform!_

"Goddamn it, Dan, that didn't even work!"

"I saw it move!" He studied the car again, rubbing at his chin. "Alright, you guys get your keys out." Hound heard a sign of frustration escape Mark.

Dan himself forwent the keys. He had his knife at ready and approached the Jeep again, dragging the razor-sharp blade across the front grille. Before long, he began to feel the scrapes all over, though none of them were painful like the cuts from the knife. Forcing himself to focus, he saw that Dan was showing particular interest in the round headlights. Switching the position of the blade in his hand, he brought his arm back in preparation to smash the left one, but Hound was quickly getting tired of this game. He flashed his highbeams for a split second, meriting a cry of pain from the troublesome human.

Unfortunately, the effort was futile.

"Why, you son of a..."

_CRACK!_

The Jeep audibly hissed.

Alright, that was the last straw. He was done with this. No more playing around, no more mister nice mech.

"Jesus Christ, Hound," Astrid gasped. "Don't let them do this to you! Let me out so you can transform."

"I like that idea," he replied before promptly smacking one of the other men with his left passenger door, knocking him to the ground in an unconscious heap. "Go go!" The young woman darted out of the cab as he started to transform around her. Pieces of himself came apart and joined back together in sturdy mechanical bonds to create his bipedal form. In a matter of seconds, before the three remaining conscious men stood a giant, pissed-offrobot. There was a fierce frown upon his metallic visage.

"I think it's time for me to teach you people some respect," he said.

_Holy-_

_Don't do it too, Beachcomber. I don't want you on their hit list too._

_Just say the word, man, and I'll be right there to give you a hand._

"Jesus fucking Christ! You better be getting this, boys!"

Hound picked up their limp comrade, holding him under the arms in one hand and taking a rumbling step forward.

"You put him down, you bastard!" the third human shouted.

"No, no, no, it's evidence!" Dan said, snapping away with a digital camera.

Hound gently set the unconscious human down on a picnic table. "The only thing it's going to prove is how much of a bunch of slagheads you all are."

"What about his bitch, Dan?"

"Forget her. We want pictures of the robot!"

From what he remembered of the word "bitch", it was highly derogatory, especially toward human women. And Hound didn't like it when people, human or not, threw around insults like that about his friends. With a deep frown, Hound reached forward and grabbed Dan by the waist. The man wriggled around in the vice grip, pounding his fists against the metal to no avail.

"If you... kill me," he wheezed, still fighting the tightening digits around his ribcage. "The US army... will be all... over... you..."

The Jeep brought the man's twisted face close to his. "You're an annoying, lowlife fragger, but that doesn't mean I'm going to kill you."

"Hey, you put him down! Put him down!" Mark had grabbed a piece of firewood and was hitting it against Hound's leg with all his might. It hurt, but it wasn't doing much damage at all.

Then to the Jeep's surprise, he heard Astrid's voice. "You leave him alone, you son of a bitch!" He glanced down just in time to see her tackle the man to the ground. He cried out in pain upon falling back on his large Nikon camera.

"Shut the hell up!" Shouted another voice from elsewhere in the campground. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"

"Help! Help me!" The man in Hound's grip began to shout at the top of his lungs. "Oh god I think I've broken a-" What a lying slagger! He was effectively silenced then with a hard flick to the back of the head. The mech felt almost disgusted with himself to having to resort to such measures against these humans, but what else could he do?

"Hound," Astrid said from where she was positioned at his feet, pinning a groaning Mark to the ground with his face in the dirt. "People are coming!" He appeared to be incapacitated not by her, but from his own injuries.

He turned his head to see flashlights appearing from several directions, then took quick inventory of the situation. 5 campers were in close vicinity. There was an unconscious human on the table and another in his hand, Astrid had a third on the ground, and the fourth had disappeared. Frag, frag, frag.

_Beachcomber, I'm saying the word._

_Right on, daddy-o._

To his right came the distinct sound of transformation. In a matter of seconds, the blue mech was by his side. "BC, I need you to disable their electronics."

"One total blackout comin' right up."

It was going to give Hound a bit of a circuit-ache, but it had to be done. Before he knew it, the buggy was emitting wavelengths of just the right frequency to disrupt all lights, phones, and cameras in the immediate vicinity. The campground was plunged into pitch blackness. Unfortunately, that ended in more commotion than before. Several women shrieked from the loud, high-pitched sound, and small children began to cry. Every single dog within a mile radius of the place began to bark. Unfortunately, the pulse blew out most of Astrid's car windows as well.

He heard the man named Mark cry out in fear and surprise at his feet, as his camera lens, flash, and viewfinder exploded next to him and photo memory was wiped clean.

"Ranger! Someone get the ranger! Something's going on!"

"I heard someone yelling for help over here!"

"Call 911!"

"My phone doesn't work!"

"Mine doesn't either!"

"What the hell is going on?"

"Astrid, it's time to go," Hound said, anger fading away to a sense of panic. He transformed, threw open his passenger-side door, and felt her clamber in before gunning it through the campsite and up the rocky hill, completely ignoring the conventional means of exiting the campground.

_Beachcomber, we need to find that other hunter._

_Buh-bah, man, I'm on it._

Both mechs set their sensors on full as they clambered over the rocky desert landscape. He felt his passenger hastily put on her seat belt and hold on for dear life.

"Sorry about the bumpy ride," he said.

"Heh, it's alright. You just keep doing whatcha gotta do."

_There, man. 3 o'clock._

_Got him._

"Sorry, little lady, but you've gotta vacate me again."

He felt her undo the seat belt when he came to a stop, and she quickly stepped out. Hound was bipedal in an instant, jogging over to where the fourth and final human was fleeing in pure, unmitigated terror some hundreds of yards away. Hound snatched him up without effort.

"Oh please god don't kill me!" he cried out, tears threatening to spill forth. "I'll do anything you fucking want me to do, just please don't hurt me, please! I-I have a wife and a 5-month-old back home! Please god..."

Hound swallowed his feelings of embarrassment. This job was so much better suited for other mechs who didn't think twice about manhandling humans.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he stated firmly, and the young man fell silent despite the trembling that wracked his whole body. "Just give me your camera."

The human fumbled for the device hanging from his neck. "Here, take it! It's all yours!" He thrust it at the green mech.

Hound took it in his free hand and studied it for a moment before crushing it. Bits of glass, plastic, metal, and circuitry fell to the gravel at the Jeep's foot. "Now I'm going to put you down, but I want one more thing."

"You want my wallet?" he stumbled, reaching into a pocket. "Here! F-for the girl! I've got forty bucks, take it!"

"We don't want your money," he snapped. The human froze and shut up again. "I want you to go back to your little group," Hound began, speaking slowly. "And I want you to tell them to call off their search. I want you to tell them that the Autobots and their human allies don't want to be harassed by you people anymore. And if they don't listen, you'd best remember who we're friends with. We can have you all arrested before you have time to apologize." The human nodded stiffly. Hound put him down, turning to Astrid. "Come on." His voice changed from stern to soft and tired. "Let's get you home."

The man scrambled backward, and Hound gave him one more hard look before transforming again. Sorry, but he'd have to find his own ride back.


	12. Have You Ever Seen the Rain

"Hey! How are things going in the world of humans?"

The normally bright shade of green covering the Jeep's chassis would have looked to be a dark and dull shade of gray or olive then. The only glow in the room came from a square of light marching in through the open door; it clung to the far wall like a pool of soft orange.

Hound was sitting width-ways on his berth, reclining against the wall as casually as any flesh-and-bone creature. The tracker had been called back to the Ark a few days before as part of some regular organizational procedures. Really, Prowl just wanted to make sure that everyone was periodically reminded that they were a military unit with strict protocols and structure. That and he'd been required to attend a couple meetings, especially considering the recent... events.

"Things are alright on my end, here..." said the voice on the other end of the line. She sounded relieved, but tired. "The police checked my house last monday. Said my phone lines were being tapped, and that I had a bunch of data-mining and keylogging malware installed on my computer. They recommended I get a new machine altogether. Said to change all my passwords, phone numbers, locks. Perhaps get some kind of security system installed in the house, too. I'd have to ask the landlord, though. He's not going to like that his insurance is going to go up because of this."

Hound winced at these suggestions, knowing that wasn't what she wanted to hear. He didn't want his friend living in fear, after all; having to constantly look over one's shoulder was a horrible feeling.

"Are you going to look into any of it?" he asked meekly.

"Well, I can't really afford to do all of it," she said with feigned jest. "But I'm going to get a new computer, and I'm going to have the locks changed."

"Not even get new numbers? I'd have thought those would be higher priority, especially if they'd had you tapped."

"The thing is..." Astrid trailed off for a moment. "Well, I'm looking to move, Hound."

The green mech sat up straight at this notion, needing to know more. "What? Where are you moving to? Are you going to be closer to your family?"

She chuckled. "No, I'm going to be moving further north." His spark lept at the idea of her being closer to the Autobot's base of operations. "I'm thinking Alaska." And then it sunk again.

"Alaska?"

"Yeah. I haven't decided if I want to be in Anchorage or Juneau yet... I guess it all depends on if I get hired for the job I applied for."

"You applied for another job?" he asked with a smile.

"Yep. I decided I finally want to do something with this degree I have, so I applied to be a statistician with the US Fish and Wildlife Service."

Hound's spark leaped with joy. "I'm so happy for you, Astrid. I really hope you get the position."_  
_She chuckled a bit on the other end. Fatigue. "I hope so too... Hey, did you ever hear about what happened to those guys in Elko, by the way?"

"You kidding me? It was the talk of the base for _days_. I guess everybody considered it my finally "growing a pair", if you know what I mean," he mumbled, rolling his eyes. "It was a pretty slick story they cooked up, though. What happened on your end?"

"Police called me up to get a statement the day after you left, said my story didn't add up when I told him that I'd spent the night in a motel and left all my stuff there-can you blame them?-so they were sending detectives to Tahoe. But I guess by the time they arrived, they'd been told Autobots were involved, and to put it simply, "stories were going to changed" to preserve everyone's "integrity" or somesuch. That's all I could get out of them, really."

"You've got to admit, the drug, assault, and vandal charges were a clever cover up. And the stolen EMP grenade bit? Classic! Thank Primus that all the other campers were so disoriented that they couldn't give any meaningful testimonies."

"Yeah, if anyone else had seen you..."

There was a pause then, and Hound's internal communications system almost seemed to register the ambient noise in the background grow louder to fill the quietude between them. "Hey," he said, not wanting to break the silence, but rather massage it away. "Is everything okay?"

The young woman responded to his gentle tone. "Yeah, I guess," she began with a sigh. "I don't know... I suppose I'm just getting sick of this town. I don't feel quite safe in this house anymore either. The recent events have been a wake up call; it made me realize that I was stuck... stuck in the moment, and I'm just now getting out of it."

Hound couldn't hold back a laugh at the song reference. It was a small sign that she was in good spirits someplace, and that was an encouraging notion."You know, I remember that email you sent me..."

"Which?"

"The reply to the first batch of photos I sent you. I read it over I don't know how many times... but there was something touching about it, Astrid. Something true. Something genuinely _human_." Hound was suddenly lost in his own thoughts, and he spent a few seconds trying to navigate through the fragments of a speech. "And... I don't like you because you're _A_human-like being a human is some exotic gimmick-but I like you because you ARE human. You differ from me in so many amazing ways, and yet, we're fundamentally the same. So much life and vitality... it really would do you a disservice to spend too long looking at clouds. I want you keep climbing mountains. I want you keep blazing trails, and I want you to not have to worry about anything else. Because you, as the most human of humans, need these things.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I hope you get to do everything that you want to do, and I hope that Alaska will provide you with the opportunities to do 'em. You deserve it, you really do."

The other end of the line was silent for a while, and Hound was suddenly scared that they'd gotten disconnected. "Y-you're still there, right?"

"Of course I am," she said, and he could hear a smile in her voice. "It's just... you're talking like I'm never going to see you again."

"Well, I-"

"I was actually going to ask if you wanted to help me move?"

The Jeep gasped and sat up straight for a moment, before leaning forward in a sitting position better suited for taking action. "I... I'd love to! Come to think of it, I haven't been to Alaska yet... been all up in through Canada, but never that far northwest. I'd have to get permission, of course, and Prowl will probably give me a hard time if he has to switch my rotation..." he was thinking aloud now more than anything. "But I'll try my damnedest to swing it. But wait, what about your mother and sister? Wouldn't they be coming with you too?"

"I told them that I might be able to get help moving... and besides, I think my mom would really like to just fly up with my dad when he's home too."

"Ohh."

"Hey Hound..?"

"Yeah?" The Autobot narrowed his optics, training them on a small dent in the far wall of his quarters. He wasn't sure he liked the tone of her voice.

"We're good, right?"she asked quietly.

"Good?" was his calm and mirthful reply. He suddenly felt like a mentor of sorts. "I'd say we're better than ever."

"Okay. I just needed to hear that. I've been thinking lately about-"

Hound shook his head as though she were there in the room with him. "There's no need to. It's all in the past, and life's too short (even for me) to spend time dwelling on the things that we've done. What's important is that you've got a full life ahead of you, and I'd like to be your friend through the thick and thin of it. How does that sound?"

"That sounds awesome, to say the least."

"Good. Now chin up: you've got a leg to strengthen."

"Oh my god, you're right... and it's already 3:30? I'm going to be late for physical therapy! I've gotta go. Thanks for chatting with me... I'll talk to you again soon."

"You bet."

Click.

Hound closed the connection and reclined once again against the wall with a great mechanical sigh that came from both his gears and his vocal processor.

"I'm glad things worked out for you, man."

The jeep was startled out of his subroutines, and abruptly jerked his head over to the open doorway to see Beachcomber standing there, leaning against the jamb. There was a soft smirk on his blue visage and a gleam behind his visor. Hound settled back into his previous position, and the movement cued his fellow off-roader to enter the room.

"How... long were you standing there?" the green and black mech asked, cocking a brow ridge.

"Hey, long enough, you know. So you're takin' the little lady up on her _ba-bah bada_offer?"

Hound threw his hands up. "Criminey, you were listening for that long? They should just rename you 'Eavesdrop'," he mumbled with a shake of his head. "But yessiree, I wanna go with her. She really shouldn't be driving a moving van all that way by herself anyways. And don't ask me why she doesn't just ship everything to begin with."

"Yeah, that sounds kinda dangerous, if not a drag too. I think it'd be groovy if you two cats did the road trip together. Anyways, I'll catch you later, brother... I gotta split."

"Alright, I'll see you 'round."

It was two weeks later when he got the call. They were to meet up at the California/Oregon border on the afternoon of the coming Friday, and she was to send him the address of where they were meeting up.

On the drive down through the state, Hound kept himself preoccupied by the radio and his meandering thoughts. It had been a month since he last saw her... since he stood on the gravel of her driveway for the last time. It had been a month since she sat in his passenger seat and laughed at his lame jokes, since they listened to music together like old friends and made fun of his bulky appearance.

It'd been a month since he last felt right.

Since then, his passenger seat just never felt quite warm enough, his radio not quite loud enough, his hands not quite full enough, and his spark not quite light enough. There was something missing, Hound realized as he drove down the long, straight road through Grant's Pass, surrounded by trees and naught else. Something that being all that he could be couldn't quite make up for. It was then that he thought back to all those months ago, to that night that he'd sworn to himself to never call back to the forefront of his mind.

It would only set him up for a bad mood, after all.

But for some reason, he couldn't let it go. It was like he was a detective that just couldn't keep that one cold case in storage. He kept pulling it out and looking over the files for something that he may have missed all those other times. The kinds of crimes that would rob him of sleep as he tried to piece things together in ways that only the dark quietude of night would permit. He revisited the scene in his CPU countless times, looking over the faces, the words, the possible perpetrators. But in the end, it had only been the two of them... just the two of them in a garage. Just the two of them in a garage with bodies full of high-grade and well-beings torn asunder from nothing more than being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Hound never wanted to think about it... never wanted to admit it to himself. He just wanted to ignore it and hope that it would eventually fade away as all corrupt files and subroutines ultimately do. But here he was, thinking about that night again as though it were a dirty little secret he was trying to keep from even himself, and he was beginning to come to the realization that underneath the disgust, underneath the anger, and the shame, there was something else. Something else that suffered a blow when Astrid woke up in his arms and looked like the most sickened human being on earth.

There was something true about what had happened. "Something real..." the jeep said aloud to himself. _I've been wanting to do that for a long time_, he had said. "I'd been wanting to do it... I _wanted_it," he affirmed. "Wanted... her..." A pause. "No, no, no, no, no... this isn't right." This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to be how things went. He wasn't supposed to be thinking these things. Frag, he wasn't even supposed to be thinking about any of this at all! Primus slagging... "_**Fuck!**_" he blurted out through his vocal processors. "There is honestly something wrong with me... with my programming or something... this isn't supposed to be how things go..."

"Am I really that slagged up?"

...

"Am I really that spineless? That I can't even stand up to myself?"

...

The Jeep spent some minutes trying to reason and robot the situation back under control, but it was too late. He'd made the deadly mistake of acknowledging the missing something and now he had to live knowing that it would never be filled.

He couldn't drive any longer. The sudden rush of emotion... it was too much to bear. Hound had pulled out onto a dirt road so he could have some peace and perhaps figure out why he'd suddenly torn wide open all those old wounds.

He had absolutely _no _reason to!

They'd kissed and made up, so to speak. They were friends again. And that's all he'd wanted... that's all he _told _her he wanted. Maybe he'd lied.

_Beachcomber, buddy, you awake?_

_Hound, man... it's way late. Why'd you get me on the horn at such an hour, brother?_

_Beach, I need your help again... I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place and I don't know what to do anymore._

_Hey man, slow down. It'sss... gonna be alright. What happened exactly?_

_Son of a glitch, Beachcomber, the feelings_ were _there! I feel like slag now... as soon as I started thinking about being around her again, I just got this sinking feeling in my spark. She'll hate me if I mention anything! She'll get offended and creeped out, and walk away from me and I'll never hear from her again. You gotta help me out, buddy... it hit me like brick wall on my way down, and I just don't-_

_Whoa there, man. Just slow your processors down for a bit there and relax for a minute, you know? You sound like you're in pretty bad shape... I can barely understand your jibber, you been jabberin' so fast._

_I'm sorry, Beachcomber. I'm just pretty miserable right now because I realized that I've been feeling a little bent out of shape since the night we interfaced. I've... I've hidden it pretty well... I've hidden it from myself, too. I guess I didn't even want to entertain the possibility. I wanted to remind myself that it was all out of the question._

_Yeah cat, I can understand that... Uhm... I mean, it's not like this is just something you can like, let go and forget, you know? This is part of who you are right now, and ain't nothin' gonna change that. But you just gotta realize the circumstances of your... situation, and you gotta like... obey the rules and stuff, but you also gotta listen to your spark. Dig?_

_Yeah, I dig..._

_If you're convinced in that green head o' yours that maybe she feels the same way, don't go rushin' green head first into anythin'. What you've got now is sweet, man, and bah-bah don't you go forgettin' that friendship and how important it is and all that. Dig?_

_...dig._

_And if she's not all into this stuff you've got goin' on, try not to sweat it. You're a cool cat, so don't let this jive throw off your ge-om-et-try, you know? You'll find some slick bird to plug up that hole o' yours someday, man. May not be soon, but if we get outta this war in one piece, which I'm bettin' we will, you'll find someone, though you might be hurtin' for a while. Not gonna lie._

A pause.

_Hey Beachcomber?_

_Mmmmmmhm?_

_I lied to her, didn't I? When I told her that everything was fine?_

_Nope, brother. What you told that human was fact as cold and hard as the rock I'm sittin' on right now. What you did was lie to yourself. You were only tellin' her what you believed to be true. Got it?_

_Yeah. Thanks Beachcomber._

_No problem, daddy-o. I'll catch you in the morning._

_...'Night Beachcomber._

Hound remained there on the dirt road for the rest of the night, hurting all the way up until he went into recharge.


	13. When the Levee Breaks

The air was hot and still as she stepped out of the U-Haul with yellow 4x4 in tow, windows all accounted for. She stretched her arms up toward the bright summer sun and cracked her back. those vans were _not _comfortable rides.

Astrid had been on the road since about 8 that morning. She'd made pretty good time in such a cumbersome vehicle... (she checked her watch here) it was only almost 3, and she'd made it past the state border. Ashland was about a mile up the highway; a town that she'd only visited once before.

And where was Hound? She'd thought he'd be here already... she told him exactly where they were meeting up: a road just beside the juncture between the 99 and Pacific Highway. (Decided to forgo someplace more public after all.) She couldn't imagine that he could have possibly missed both a moving van and her bright yellow car, especially since there weren't any other vehicles around as far as she could tell.

At least it's not like she was particularly eager to get behind the wheel again anyways. It was a beautiful day, and this was a well-earned break for her. She hoisted herself back up onto the seat in the van, her legs resting on the step below the door as she reached for a water bottle and a small bag of almonds. A few minutes passed by as she munched away, and eventually her eyes drifted downward when they were tired of the bright sun. She examined her legs; they were freshly shaved now. The physical therapy worked wonders for her; though they were still a little weaker than they were before the accident, Astrid was still slowly building up her strength.

She set down the almonds and drew one of her legs up so she could look at it more closely... scars laced the skin of her thighs and calves almost like she'd been lashed and stoned. They were relatively faint, though, and she knew most of them would fade come Christmas. Though some wouldn't... a particularly nasty one beside her right knee, for instance. That one... that one would be there for the rest of her life.

It's not that she thought them ugly, or was ashamed of them. They were testament to what she went through, and a testament to how good life could be when given a second chance.

Right now, life was good.

Astrid was about to go open up the back to make sure her furniture hadn't shifted too much during the drive when she heard a car coming. Just as she slid up the back door to take inventory, the familiar form of a Jeep pulled up beside her and gave a little toot of the horn. She bounded down from the rear bumper of the van and up to the passenger side window, and the glass-looking pane promptly rolled itself down for her.

The young woman rested herself against the door, crossing her arms on the ledge now formed from the absence of a window.

"Hey there, how was the drive?"

"It was, uh... it was alright. There was an accident on my way down. Caused lots of congestion and... frustration, and heartache..."

Astrid knitted her brows together. "Heartache?"

"Well, I mean, you know... it's always awful to see people get hurt like that."

She looked at the console with slight suspicion. There was something in his voice that seemed off. But, it was probably none of her damn business. "Yeah, car accidents are awful things. I've only been in one myself, actually. Car was totaled, but I walked away with nothing but a sore neck. Guess you can call me lucky," she said with a bit of a laugh. She stepped away from the car and gave the siding a couple quick pats before returning to what she'd been doing a moment earlier.

"You're very lucky," Hound said after her. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you... if you were injured or something again."

"Well," Astrid said from the inside of the van as she double-checked all the tie-downs for the heavier pieces of furniture. "The thing about injuries..." she paused here to tighten one of them. "Is that people usually recover from them. I don't think you have anything to worry about unless I were dead."

The silence was something new. It wasn't like him to not have something to say... perhaps the humor was lost on him that time?

She popped her head out to get a look at him, perhaps be able to read his car form somehow. "You alright? You're not quite acting like yourself." The human noticed that his chassis seemed to be sitting a little low on the wheels, but as soon as she'd spoken, he popped himself back up again.

"Not acting like myself? Oh nonsense. I'm in a terrific mood! I mean, look at this beautiful day. And I get to spend it with a good friend? It doesn't get any better than that, lady."

Astrid smiled, her suspicions put to rest. "Alright," she said, closing the hatch and securing it. "I just wanted to make sure."

"So, uhm... were are we stopping for the night?"

"I'm hoping to make it to Portland before I pass out... man, it's going to be a long drive. If I don't make it, then we'll just stop before then... it's plenty civilized along that stretch of highway."

Hound was silent again, but she ignored it.

The young woman got into the van and closed to door behind her. It made an obnoxiously loud noise. "Hey dude," she called out to him after starting the engine. "Just follow me, alright? And if you need to talk to me, you know my number."

"Affirmative," was the reply.

The two of them managed to make it to Portland, but just barely. She checked into a motel for the night, just about ready to collapse.

"I really hate to leave you out here all by your lonesome," Astrid lamented while seated in the front passenger seat of the Jeep. "But I am wiped... and I could definitely use some laying down to get the kinks out of my back. I'm sorry."

Hound shifted. "Naw, naw... you've deserved a good night sleep. Don't worry about me! I'll be alright out here."

"Are you suuure? Is there anything I can get you while I'm still up..?"

"Now if you don't stop worrying and get your butt up into that bed, young lady, it's gonna get a swatting!"

The tired and happy smile that was on Astrid's face dissolved into something more complicated. She tensed up and her heartbeat hastened as heat rushed to her face. There was silence while she digested the words she just heard.

"Uhm." Astrid swallowed, her hand reaching for the door handle. "I better go hit the hay..."

She hesitated for a second, to see if he had anything else to say, but it didn't appear that he did.

"See you tomorrow." She quickly shoved the door open, jumped out, and closed it behind her. The young woman raced across the pavement of the parking lot to the door of her room like a deer racing across an open meadow to reach the safety of an adjacent thicket. Feverishly, she tore open the dirty white door of her room and closed it, pressing her back to its surface as though she feared Hound was going to come barging in and she was barricading the door with her own small bulk.

Astrid's mind was silent for a moment, and then a single thought popped into her mind.

_This is so surreal._

Another silence.

_Did he say what I thought I heard him say? Or was that my imagination?_

And another.

_And if it was my imagination, why would I have imagined him to say something like that?_

And then out of nowhere, a calm washed over her. She turned right around and opened the door again, closing and locking it behind her. Then back across the parking lot she went, headed straight for the hulking form of the green 4x4, knocking on the door until it opened, and promptly seated herself back inside.

"Astrid..?"

"Drive."

"W...where?" It suddenly seemed to her that their roles had suddenly reversed: that SHE was the giant robot and Hound was the fragile human, now.

"Someplace secluded."

The engine came to life. "Astrid, I-"

"Don't talk, just drive."

It was 15 minutes in complete silence. Astrid had her arms tightly folded and her legs crossed the entire time, as Hound brought them both to a park of sorts off SW Kingston Drive. There, on the dark road, Hound pulled over, putting on his emergency lights.

"No, I want to talk to you face to face."

"But-"

"We'll be fine over there. You can stand behind a tree."

The jeep sighed and opened the door to let out his charge. She began to walk up the hillside as he transformed, glad to find it covered in short, dry grass. In no time at all she could hear his footfalls on the soft earth before his long, powerful strides brought him past her. He waited for her at the top of the gently sloping hill, where he would be safe from prying eyes against the black backdrop of old, fat pines. Astrid wouldn't have seen him in the moonless darkness if he hadn't turned on his parking lights to dimly illuminate the immediate vicinity.

She finally stopped and stood defiantly at his feet, looking up at him with lips drawn tight. She couldn't quite tell, but when she looked into his eyes, she almost saw shame and hurt there.

"Hound, I need to ask you a question."

"Alright..." he said softly.

"Do you like me?"

"Of course I do, but-"

Astrid sighed loudly and shook her head. "Hound, are you _attracted_ to me?"

He seemed to glance nervously to his right, down at the road now lost in the blackness. Then he looked back to her, eyes trained, and she noticed his hands slowly ball into fists. "...yes," was the simple reply.

The human shifted weight from one foot to the other. "Why?"

The question seemed to catch him off-guard, but then he threw up his defenses. His voice changed tone. "Dammit, Astrid! I didn't drive all the way out here just to get my... my _affection _thrown back at me like the trash you like to seem think it is. I may be a robot, but I can hurt just as much as you. I'm not going to stand here and take your shit because you need someone to take your problems out on. I guess you _haven't_ gotten over that stupid night yet. And when you have, let me know so I don't have to feel like a fool for trying to talk to you."

With that he cut his lights and turned to tromp back down the hillside. Astrid just stood there, mouth slightly agape. Wow, no wonder he didn't often cut loose with his words like that... he was capable of cutting pretty deep. Astrid was taken aback, but she swallowed her pride and her hurt. _He didn't mean it... he didn't mean it..._ She refused to be responsible for losing him again.

"Hound! Hound!" she called, running after him. "Hound, that's not true! That wasn't my intention!"

"I'm a million years older than you," he bellowed angrily. "You can't pull the wool over my eyes."

The young woman broke out into a sprint to catch up with his pace. She maneuvered off to the side of his enormous legs as he walked, careful not to get stepped on. Then reaching out with both arms, she wrapped them around one of his calves to the best of her ability, and quickly hopped onto the top of his foot.

"Hold it, would you?" she yelled up at him. He abruptly stopped upon noticing her clinging to his leg.

"You got a deathwish?" he spat, but she could tell that he was holding deathly still. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to stick your flimsy little limbs into heavy machinery? Now get off me."

"Hound, I know you're not mad," she said, and hopped off the giant appendage. "You're hurt, and it's because of me. I'm sorry."

He looked at her with a pair of optics that betrayed his feeling of estrangement. They were a fiery blue, and they bored holes into her with their harsh scrutiny. She imagined that there was a pleading look on her face: a frail combatant against his conviction. But then, the self-sustained animosity lifted. She knew he didn't have it in him to be truly angry, and if he appeared to be, then it was a rickety facade to cover up something far softer in nature.

"Don't apologize," he murmured, looking elsewhere with downcast optics.

Astrid looked away as well for a moment, thinking. This was it... she could lose him now if she didn't say the right thing. She desperately hoped that the truthful thing would be the right thing.

"I guess... deep down, I still don't understand how a machine could feel that way toward a human. How something that lives for so long could identify with something that's so fleeting, how something so unyielding could appreciate something so fragile... how something like you could want something like me. The idea still scares me, and the only way I know how to deal with fear is to... confront it in all the wrong ways, apparently. How do I make this right?"

Hound abruptly sat down on the ground just then, startling Astrid. Two massive shadows reached out and grabbed her, setting her down to stand between his legs, pressed up hard against his chest. He looked at her with those otherworldly luminescent eyes and then brought her in for a kiss, deep and hard. His mouth, which was noticeably larger than her own, made for an awkward time, she realized now that she was sober, but both the robot and the young woman grew accustomed to each other after a few seconds.

A minute or two later, Hound broke away, but still held her firm against him, rubbing her back with motions gentler than she could have possibly imagined his hands capable of. "You just did," he murmured, letting it sink in for a moment before continuing. "It's the same thing as a 29 year old human being able to identify with a 3 million year old sentient machine; the same thing as a creature made of flesh and bone being able to appreciate a creature made of metal... and it's the same thing as some_one _like you wanting someone like me." He paused for a smile. "Do you fit the bill?" he asked gently.

Did she?

This was not one of those surreal moments. Everything she was experiencing was happening in a concrete, linear fashion that was easy for her brain to digest. What was complicating things was actually trying to formulate a response.

It was difficult to know anymore. There was baggage now, memories of misdirected frustration... a single night of sophomoric stupidity. The young woman was able to forgive both parties involved and move on, but nothing could take back what had happened. And now, here, she was trying to decide what that night really meant in the span of a few seconds.

It simultaneously meant a lot, and nothing, she concluded. It had only as much consequence as the two of them chose to give it.

_Do you fit the bill?_ Astrid was tempted to say "you tell me", almost fearful of having to decide for herself. The idea of him passing judgment either way was absurd, but deep down she felt the anxious insecurity of being faced with having to sum up an entire maelstrom of feelings with a simple yes or no.

And that, she realized, meant there was a trust issue somewhere along the way. No doubt with herself, but... the thought that she might not trust him fully made her slightly angry.

...and the fact that she was angry with herself for not trusting him to the fullest meant that she wanted to do so. And how does one go about learning to trust someone utterly?

By forming a relationship with them. By spending time with them. Enjoying them. Learning to appreciate them for everything they are: every vice and virtue. Every truss and servo.

It was now apparent that she fit some kind of bill. Was it his? She found herself hoping so.

Astrid, still not wanting to give him the definitive answer that she knew he wanted, let her head down to rest on the broken hood of the Jeep, right next to his own head, and just sighed. She felt him bring his legs up into an indian-style sitting position, enclosing her within his embrace even further. "Where do we go from here?" she murmured, suddenly feeling very, very tired. She hoped that the open-ended question would suffice.

"I'll go wherever you feel comfortable going. You make the rules. You tell me how it's going to be."

"That's very... gentlemanly of you," she said with a smile, glad that perhaps he wasn't looking for something as direct as a yes or no answer. "But I mean, there are other things. Things like... some of our more _apparent _differences in anatomy?" She stood up straight, and measured with the flat of her hand from the top of her head to his. Even with him sitting down he was a good 6 inches taller.

"Details," he decided. "That is... if you don't mind being a third my height? I don't mind _you _being a third my height."

"I guess..." Astrid trailed off as she traced a seam on his chest, causing the Jeep to grin. "I guess it could be interesting?"

Hound then, with great calculation and swiftness, laid the young woman on the grass, positioning himself above her on all fours like a cat with a mouse. He pinned her arms to the ground with an index finger each. "I think it could be fun."

"A-and I don't doubt that it will," she stammered, not willing to admit that he's startled her greatly. She stood up-his index fingers proved to be poor restraints-and kissed him on the cheek as he remained on hands and knees. "But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't still have a bad taste in my mouth from that night in the garage. If we're gonna do this, we need to take it slowly. There. That's how it's going to be, alright?" She swallowed minutely here. "Can I trust you, Hound?"

He'd shifted himself so that he was sitting on his knees, suddenly sober. "That's something only you know for sure, Astrid." His tone was no longer light, but soft and serious. She looked down at the ground, not quite sure how to answer. "Look," he tried, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's not like I'm asking you to spark-bond with me or anything. All we need is enough trust between us to know that it's alright to continue down this path... wherever it may lead us. And I don't doubt for a minute that, given time, this trust will grow."

She just nodded, letting it soak in. "There's something wrong with the both of us, isn't there? I mean, it doesn't get any more unnatural than this. Not sure about you, but this goes against just about every human social convention I can think of."

"This is pretty taboo where I come from as well," he admitted. "But I don't think there's something 'wrong' with us. Odd, maybe? But definitely not wrong. How could it be? We're not hurting anyone."

Astrid reached up to grasp one of his fingers. "You're a good person, Hound. I'm glad that you have such a positive outlook on things."

"Well, I was struggling with that up until a few minutes ago, to be honest. But practice makes perfect. Let's both be optimistic from now on."

"Deal."

The two of them shifted positions so that she could sit on his thigh and recline against his broad abdomen. Hound rubbed her arm absentmindedly as the two of them began to gaze up at the stars.

"So does this mean that I am one of the privileged few who can say that they've dated an Autobot?"

"Only if I get to be one of the privileged few who can say they've dated you."

"Oh jeez," she chuckled. "Are you always going to be this sappy? 24/7 cheese is a dealbreaker, I'm afraid."

"Only when I'm not pounding y-"

"Hey, hey! Comfort zone, remember?"

"I'm just kidding! Sorry." He gave her a small squeeze and she smacked at his forearm. "But to answer your question, yes, there have only been a few."

"Yeah?"

"Seaspray had some trophy girl down in San Diego for a while, Tracks has been seeing some male model from San Fransisco for almost 6 years now, and I think Powerglide is still seeing that gal up in Seattle who works at a municipal airport."

"Is Tracks a guy?"

"Well, the human idea of homosexuality doesn't really exist among us... our version of gender isn't quite so polarized, you know?"

Astrid cocked an eyebrow. "You seem rather masculine to me."

"I guess that's just how I am..? But trust me when I say that I've known a few femmes with more machismo in one wire than I could muster in a lifetime. Gender for us isn't so much determined by what parts we were and weren't built with, but rather our physiology and psychology as a whole. It's about what we identify with at any given moment."

"So you're saying that you could switch genders at the drop of a hat?"

"Well... it's not like a switch that you can turn on and off willy-nilly. Usually it happens over time, just in the same way that someone might change their opinions on something as the years go by. Some of us just outgrow the gender we were first programmed with. And it's generated at random upon sparking it seems, so it doesn't often discriminate against body type."

The human was both confused and amazed. "And there's no societal pressure for anyone to stick with one or the other?"

"No, because our form of reproduction is very different from yours. It doesn't require an anatomical male and an anatomical female to make baby robots."

"Wow," Astrid concluded with a yawn. She was beginning to sound groggy. "I think there's a lot that we could learn from you Autobots."

"I'd say that goes both ways," Hound said with a smile, before giving her another squeeze. "Hey, did you want to go back to the motel? You must be exhausted."

"Yeah... it's getting really late, and I've got a full drive ahead of me tomorrow."

Hound picked up his human with exquisite care, cradling her in his arms like a small child as he walked down the remainder of the hill. She had to admit... being held like that gave her the warmest, most comforting feeling in the world. Unfortunately, he had to set her down to transform.

Astrid slid into the front passenger seat; Hound reclined it for her. The clock read 1:18am as he drove down the silent, winding road back to sleepy civilization.

She had fallen asleep at some point along the way, and never felt the arms that lifted her out of the car and carried her to her room, nor did she feel the solidified holoform that settled down on the floor beside her bed.


	14. Ventura Highway

His internal chronometer read 8:36am when he noticed the first signs of stirring; his girl had just come out of REM and would probably be more or less awake in 20 minutes. Out of curiosity, a large finger brushed her shoulder as she slept with her back to him. The motion caused her to sleepily roll over and face him before stilling again.

Hound had forgone a more diminutive geometry for his holoform at some point during the night. While having a smaller holoform use more energy than a large one may have seemed counter-intuitive, the holo expert knew that projecting a solid holoform of himself that was truly to scale would require far fewer millisecond-to-millisecond calculations on his part, and wouldn't be quite as much of a drain on his systems.

A gasp sounded from off to his right.

Looks like she's awake a bit earlier than I thought she'd be...

"Morning!"

It took a bit of willpower to not break out into a laugh at her expression. Her hair was a wonderful mess, and her mouth was twisted open in the most comical shape. She'd propped herself up on an elbow to allow herself a better view of her surroundings.

"What in the heck did you do to the room!" she exclaimed.

"Oh," Hound said, glancing over at the second twin bed shoved up against the far wall, and the middle nightstand relocated over to a corner. "You mean that?"

"And how did... how did you even get IN here?"

"Oh, relax! I'm still parked outside," he reassured with a lopsided grin. He was in a sitting position on the floor, reclined against the wall right beside Astrid's bed. "Here, I got you some coffee earlier." The jeep held out his hand, and with a small flash of light, a paper coffee cup appeared in it, still steaming.

"Thank you," she grumbled, and took it. Her eyes looked heavy in her face as they wearily surveyed the wall he was leaning against. "I hope you're not damaging anything.."

"My self-holo weighs as much as I want it to. Right now, I'm about 15 pounds, and can withstand about 74 PSI. I _could_ solidify it until it's my true weight and density if I wanted, but... _that_ would probably damage something."

The human was still groggy from sleep. She turned away from him with a half-smile, shaking her head before taking a sip of coffee. "What am I gonna do with you..."

"I'm not sure how you liked your coffee, so I hope you don't mind it plain?"

"It's good, thanks. A little burnt, but still good." Hound deflated a little when he noticed her nose wrinkle the tiniest bit when she took a drink, but was reassured when she smiled at him. "You're very sweet, you know that?"

The engine of the Jeep outside grew a little warm. "Aw, gee... it's nothing."

Astrid sat in the bed for a few more moments, sipping the coffee. Hound was enjoying the contented silence between the two of them, quite frankly, before he noticed the human set her beverage down, gather up a blanket and pillow, and throw it at his lap, as though completely ignoring what he'd just said about the holo. But oh well... he couldn't resist, and so solidified only the very outside of himself to mimic a real body. The jeep then busied himself with an expression of intrigue as Astrid slipped off the bed and settled down on the floor between his legs (placing the pillow up against his pelvic plates for lumbar support, of course) and lean back against his lower belly.

His arms, which had been more or less suspended in the air to allow her room to do whatever it was that she had in mind to do, came to rest about her in a loose hug. Then he smiled. "You know, I think I'm going to need a serious upgrade for my holo-projector if you're going to keep this up," he said, adjusting the weight of his arms to feel more realistic to her. She laughed and he felt it reverberate through him.

"Don't tell me your incomprehensibly advanced technology and anatomy can't even keep up with a human's ability to sit with you?"

"I believe this is called cuddling."

Astrid completely ignored him, which made him shake his head and laugh. "That's like saying "Honey, wanna watch this movie with me?" "Hold on, I'm gonna need to drink a couple red bulls first." I'm going to have to install floor-to-ceiling sliding doors in my new house just so you can come over, aren't I?"

"Or just expand the garage?"

"Eh, it'll all depend on which one you could afford to put in, now isn't that right?"

"Oh it's MY responsibility now, is it?"

"You're a giant alien robot, I'm sure you can figure it out." Astrid looked up at him and winked, giving him a pat on the leg. There was a calm, peaceful pause, before she broke the silence again, though. "Hey, we're good, right? I just want to know, because last time I asked you that, you didn't say what you really wanted to say..."

"I," he started, squeezing her a little bit before letting up. "Am feeling better than I have in a long time. And I'm most certainly 'good' so long as you're 'good' too."

"Well good, because I'm feeling good too." She planted a small kiss on the delicate sensor pad of his right thumb.

It was at that moment that Hound was struck by something that he hadn't quite felt before. It was something like sadness, anger, and loss, but mostly it felt like dread; it was a feeling that sunk down into the very pit of his spark like an acid slowly boring its way through an otherwise incorrigible substance. He realized then that this wouldn't last forever... that he would last much longer than her.

That he would live for long time to come while she would be fleeting, blinking into existence and then blinking away again in a manner inherent to all organic things. She'd be gone before he knew it.

The jeep in the parking lot shuddered, and hoped that his holo hadn't done the same. He focused all of his attention on the body nestled up against him then, training all of his sensors on her, committing every bit of information about her to memory. Every skin cell, every hair follicle, every microscopic movement of her eyes.

"..."

"Ow, you're hurting me."

"Huh?" Hound realized that he'd brought her in tight against him... perhaps too tight. "Oh! Sorry, sorry..."

"That's alright. Just remember what I'm made out of, alright?" she said with a smile. "You said something though?"

"Did I?"

"At least, I think you did. Some kind of quiet noises?"

"I didn't think that you hear that... well, it was uhm, my native "tongue" I guess you could say."

"What did it mean?"

"It was just an expression of happiness. I don't think it would have a direct translation." Hound didn't like that he was lying a little.

Astrid held his hand against her stomach with both arms, and he stroked her pajama shirt with his thumb digit. After a moment, the shirt was just barely moved out of the way by means of the repetitive movement to allow him to stroke the skin underneath. The young woman sighed. "You know what? I'm excited about getting to know more about you."

"You too!" Hound desperately needed to get himself out of his funk if he planned on enjoying any amount of time with his human at all. "But for now, I think you should get ready to hit the road. It's already after 9!"

"I think you're onto something," she said, getting up and stretching; the movements (which Hound found fascinating) were peppered with little pops and cracks.

Hound reached out on a whim then, and sneakily hooked a finger around the elastic of her underwear. "You know, I think I like these." He assumed that she'd wiggled out of her shorts at some point in the night, leaving her with nothing but her skivvies and tank top. Oh well, he definitely wasn't complaining.

She batted his hand away, but to no avail. His other hand joined in as well, and each one firmly grasped a hip and half of a rear-end. "Oh my god," she laughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were just a suit being worn by some dude. Man, remind me to put on some PJ pants next time I plan on waking up next to you, you dog."

"I'm called Hound for a reason, missy," he said, turning her around and setting her off in the direction of the bathroom to get ready with a gentle swat of the hand to her posterior.  
"Comfort zone!" she called out as she rounded the corner and closed the door.

The robot had a huge grin on his face, but as soon as she was out of sight, it faded. With nothing to distract him, the heavy feeling returned. Hound disabled his hologram and fully returned his consciousness to its rightful place while he waited for her to get ready and check out.  
Primus, there had to be something that he could do about this... something...

The pair had reached Vancouver before nightfall (crossing the border had been a major hassle), so Astrid decided to trip around the city a bit before returning to her hotel room on the outskirts of town to watch a movie with the Jeep. It was going to be a long and arduous drive from there on out; the highways that they intended to take would lead them up through the Cascades of British Columbia and into the Yukon before they could head west and down into Anchorage. Assuming all went as planned, it would take the two of them another 5 days to make it into the city, whereupon Astrid would immediately start looking for an apartment to live in while she found herself a realtor and a proper house after starting her new job.

Hound absolutely loved the Cascades... he believed them to be the most gorgeous mountain range in all of North America, creating breathtaking views and vistas. He was worried about the drive, though... their road would take them all through the mountains, and he was unsure about how well maintained some stretches of these lonesome highways were. Astrid had assured him early on that she knew how to handle such conditions, and had had experience under her belt of driving larger vehicles. The Jeep noted that she didn't mention ever driving a U-Haul with another car in tow, but he kept his concerns to himself. After all, that's what he was there for: to keep her safe on the long journey. Should she hit a small patch of ice along the mountain road, he'd be there to steady the van; if the Xterra fishtailed or jackknifed, he'd be there to make sure it didn't bring her out of control with it. The autobot was ready to transform and leap into action at a moment's notice to keep his human out of harm's way.

The drive was wonderful. They went all the way up highway 99 to highway 97, stopping for the night in a little tiny town somewhere along the 37 where they shared an intimate evening together.

"Christ," Astrid half-drawled, half-groaned. "I can't even walk!" She'd tried to stand up to use the restroom, but Hound saw her legs completely fail her, and she sunk back down into her partner's embrace.

He stroked her bare skin from knee to ribcage, basking in the afterglow of what he'd wanted for so long now. His vocal processor was sluggish, so his voice reflected that: it was low, husky, and slightly broken. A human might've called it 'guttural'. "Then don't," he chuckled. "Stay riiight here with me."

There weren't too many positions that they could 'cuddle' in without him theoretically crushing her (he was in naturalistic holoform again, so it was impossible to do so), so he'd resorted to sitting on the bed and reclining against the wall. His torso took up much of the queen-sized bed, but there was enough room for Hound's legs to cross each other. Astrid held onto him for fear of losing her balance as he piled up much of the bedding into his lap, arranging it almost like a nest of sheets, blankets, and pillows. He knew it would be much more comfortable for her to sleep there than on bare metal.

Very slowly and shakily, the young woman clambered into his lap to make comfy.

"Well, don't I feel like a silly teenager... I haven't had my legs feel that much like jelly in years!"

"From what I've read... isn't it supposed to be like that every time?"

"If it's a good... uhm... romp, then yeah. Don't expect them all to be like that, though." Astrid fell silent, then looked up at him with a toothy grin. "You're really good at this for someone that's only done it with a human once before." She reclined against him, pressing her cheek to his thickly-plated, black abdomen. Hound grew warm all over and his spark swelled.

He bent over in a great arch above her, snaking his hand behind her lower back as he licked away the beads of sweat between her breasts with his glossa and bringing her in for a long, sloppy kiss. He slowly broke away. His face was so close to hers as he looked down into her eyes that the blue of his optics illuminated her face. The focal lenses, the bright, white light-emitting optical sensors behind the protective blue casing of his optical plates, darted from one minute facial feature to the next. "You felt fucking fantastic." The English expletive fell from his lips as naturally as the others... he didn't know why he used it, but it felt right. Not to mention that using it in that context gave him a little bit of a thrill.

But the heady bliss was under siege. Hound's mind was being invaded by depressing thoughts once again, but he'd be damned if it would bring him down into despair right now. So, he fought it.

"Son of a glitch, we should do this every day."

The human perked up. "Every day? You're kidding, right?"

"If it feels that good, then why not?"

"A good round of sex for a human is like running a mile, Hound."

The Jeep playfully poked at her belly with a finger. "Then I'll make sure you're in great shape. No need to go to the gym when I'm around."

"Jeez... you must be full of hormones or something. That's the only way I can explain it." Hound could tell that she was drifting off the sleep against him. "You crazy horn-dog, you." And then one more thing: "I am going to be so sore in the morning..." was all that she muttered, just barely audible.

First thing that came to mind as he covered up his girl with a sheet was "get used to it, sweetheart". But then, the negative thoughts came creeping back. Hound decided that it was probably a good time to go into recharge.

It was day after gorgeous day of driving through the mountains. It rained a little on the second day; a warm, summer shower that seemingly made the land come alive more than it already was. When the clouds cleared, the hills and valleys looked impossibly greener. Hound loved it. Green was his favorite color, after all. At least... when he limited his optical arrays to the visible spectrum of humans, that is.

This moment almost made him forget his worries, and in fact, it did manage to do just that for a little while. He couldn't help but slow down as they turned a high corner with nothing but the guardrail to obstruct their view of a steep valley with a long, skinny lake at the bottom. It was almost black, except where it shimmered like white gold in the sun. A bald eagle swooped down from some roost up on the mountainside above them, headed for the lake, the Jeep presumed. A raven followed it.

Hound noticed that the road was narrowing a little. There was evidence of a few rock slides in recent months here and there, little piles of dirt and gravel dotting the side of the road; some bigger, some smaller. The piles sometimes encroached a little too far out onto the pavement, and he could see where other drivers had dispersed the rocks all over the road. He could feel them crunch under his tires. Some of them were getting wedged in the deep treads... he'd have to pick those out later.

Other cars were few and far between here. They'd pass maybe a couple every ten minutes, and he could tell that passing the larger vehicles made Astrid a little nervous. She would break and make room for them, especially on the turns. That made Hound nervous. He really wished that she could have just ridden with him for this whole drive, but there was no way that he'd have been able to haul all of her worldly possessions. Why couldn't she just have sucked it up and gotten on a plane while a freight company took care of moving her things for her?

Just as their incline was tapering off and they would be on their way down, Hound was considering that maybe it would be better to drive in front of her rather than in back. That way he could anticipate oncoming traffic for her, and still keep a few sensors out to make sure she was doing alright.

"There should be a turnout in another 5 miles... I'll drive in front from there on out. We should also let these poor cars pass too."

The two of them would have to pull over onto a turnout to let traffic stuck behind them go ahead... Astrid was maintaining a whole 30-35 MPH much of the time, and that seemed to upset the folks getting stuck behind her on the 2-lane highway. Some of the braver ones would pass her when they grew too impatient, and that made Hound a little nervous too.

But what made him particularly nervous was that another large truck was coming up in the opposite lane. It was an enormous vehicle with an empty horse trailer, and it was going a little too fast for his liking. He'd carefully watched how she'd handled previous passes by large vehicles, and the Jeep could see in her maneuvering that something in her choked every time.

Slow down... slow down...

The two of them were going to pass at a turn if that damn F-150 didn't slow down, and not only that, but he wouldn't be able to cut the curve as closely as he should. The Jeep was poised; coiled like a spring, waiting for-anticipating-the first sign of danger as he watched the scene unfold.

The truck itself passed without too much of a problem, but there was little room on Astrid's right shoulder. He saw her let up on the brakes before waiting for the rest of the 15-foot trailer to pass, and the rest played out like a bad dream.

Fishtailing a small amount, the trailer threatened to hit the side of the U-Haul; their driver-side mirrors collided, resulting in a horrible noise. Astrid panicked and overcompensated, forgetting how little room she had to maneuver out of the way until the sound of metal-on-metal filled the air as the van pressed up against the guardrail. Hound, not wanting to transform in front of so many civilians stuck behind them like a captive audience, decided that a few witnesses in rural Canada was inconsequential.

The transformation was one of the fastest that he'd ever done. In less than two seconds the Jeep was on his feet, leaping toward the dangerously tipping van as the guardrail tore like paper under a lead weight.

The nanoseconds ticked by, each one as long as an hour. Fear overtook him. Panic. If he were human, this would have been a selfless act of stupidity. Was he doing this for her or for him? Just so he could hold onto her fragile, delicate, spark of a life for just a few years longer before wasting away in a hospital bed, unable to feed or relieve herself, before taking one last pitiable breath and being gone forever? She was frustratingly, mesmerizingly, and magnificently breakable, and she chose to give herself to him, as physically unyielding as he was. He signed up for this knowing she was human and cherishing every bit of that humanity... even if it would burn itself to cinders and snuff out her life in no time.

She was going to die, yes. But not today.

He reached out with his hands, and saw Astrid inside the cab. Her eyes were locked onto his, wide, pupils constricted to pinholes. And yet, he knew that she wasn't looking at him. She couldn't see him. All she could see was the mountainside coming down on her. Hound steadied the van and the Xterra, yanking it back onto the solid pavement. He reached in through the window and brushed a finger over her cheek, but she didn't feel that either. He sensed her heart racing, her breath coming in short, quick gasps, brainwaves flying out in an excited alpha frequency. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that they were cold and white: panic was all she knew now. The Jeep unlocked and opened the door from the inside, undid her seat belt, and pulled her out of the vehicle and into a strong embrace. He didn't give two slags about how many people had stopped in the road to watch the scene unfold, but he did make sure her face would be obscured in the photos.

"It's going to be okay. I've got you now."

The truck driver that caused this had stopped some yards down, but hadn't dared to exit his vehicle. He was due for a stern talking-to courtesy of the Autobot while they all waited for the police to arrive.

* * *

**_Final notes:_**_ Okay, so I've gotten rid of the tl;dr that was here before to keep it short and sweet: this story was based almost entirely around a myriad of my own very personal experiences, as well as a means for me to come out of the closet to myself as a size fetishist. I like writing social commentary, however poor I am at doing so, and preaching about my own values because I think I have interesting things to say. Whether or not I actually do is entirely up for debate. ;B The timeline of this story might also be of a little interest: I started it at the end of a long and arduous relationship, so I thought that this story was going to be bitter and that Astrid was going to die at the end because Hound wasn't actually going to be there to save her again. Buuut, I ended up meeting this really great guy, and we're madly in love (engaged?), so I succumbed to my own inner romantic and let her live._

_In fact, as of July 2011, I'm writing a sequel._

_**Playlist:** For those of you who are interested in putting together a playlist out of my rigorously selected chapter titles, here's the info:_

1. "Earthshine" - Rush**  
**2. "Roundabout" - Yes  
3. "Over the Hills and Far Away" - Led Zeppelin  
4. "Secret Touch" - Rush  
5. "Long Time" - Boston  
6. "25 or 6 to 4" - Chicago  
7. "Seven Bridges Road" - Eagles  
8. "For What It's Worth" - Buffalo Springfield  
9. "Double Agent" - Rush**  
**10. "Hope" - Rush (instrumental)  
11. "Children of the Night" - Steppenwolf  
12. "Have You Ever Seen the Rain" - Creedence Clearwater Revival  
13. "When the Levee Breaks" - Led Zeppelin  
14. "Ventura Highway" - America

_It's actually a really nice set, if I do say so myself. Threw one together on my own itunes. :3_

_Anyways, this is technically the end of the story. The next chapter is exactly as I call it: gratuitous. So if you're not interested in getting any kicks, you're not missing out. I promise. Anything important that gets mentioned there will be thoroughly touched on in the sequel, Body Check. Keep an eye out for it!_**  
**


	15. Epilogue: A Teaser

_**Note:** Beyond the link is dragons and stickyfic. Beware. Though not really dragons. Just... proverbial dragons. The proverbial dragons being the sticky, mostly.  
_

* * *

Astrid let out a very long sigh and looked behind her. Boxes everywhere; dozens and dozens of them to be opened and sorted through in due time. Her sister would be flying up to visit the following week, to check our her new pad and to help her unpack. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be necessary and she didn't quite know how to broach the topic.

"How are you going to tell your family about me?" asked the familiar and comforting voice from outside the kitchen window. "And what about the warehouse?

The warehouse. Astrid sipped her tea slowly, staring out into space. "I don't know," she concluded.

About a month had passed since her arrival in Anchorage, which meant a little more than that since her second dance with death on the highway. She'd been inconsolable for several days afterward, unable to do anything but relive bad memories. Bad, bad memories. The Jeep had somehow managed to tow, or push, or pull-she couldn't remember-the moving van along the road to the next speck of a town on the way where she spent all day curled up in his back seat, trembling, not quite able to speak. It took her two days to gather her wits about her; Hound wouldn't allow her back behind the wheel unless she felt absolutely sure she could drive. Fortunately, they made it to Anchorage in the end, and Astrid quietly decided to herself that she would be looking into therapy once she got herself settled. The hike had left a deep mark on her, and if she didn't have the courage to face it, she knew that it would turn her into a paranoid, fearful wreck in the years to come. But she would deal with that in the coming weeks. In the meantime, there was much to do, and fortunately, she was feeling like herself again.

"But you have to tell them sometime. I can't be your secret forever." The woman looked out the large window at the green robot sitting on the ground just outside as he examined a small yellow flower he'd plucked from the otherwise dead yard. His optics were that sullen shade of blue that they turned when he felt bad. Oh dear, she'd hurt his feelings.

"No, no, that's not what I meant!" she backtracked. He looked up at her. "I'm going to, but I just don't have a plan. I figure the best way to go about these things is to just go about them and be honest about it. If she flips out, then... shame on her and too bad. Though I imagine that the only thing she'd be truly iffy about is all this government involvement in my life now."

Hound let out a warm chuckle. "Hey, how about you come out here so I don't feel like I'm talking to a window screen?"

Astrid smiled. "Yeah! What the hell am I doing in here?" she laughed and stepped outside onto the deck next to where Hound sat, planting a kiss on his head and he put his arm around her waist in a childishly possessive gesture. She looked at the deck itself; it was in terrible shape. "You know, I'm kind of glad I won't have to tear this thing out now," she said, gesturing to the rotted wood with a nod of her head.

"I could do it in 30 seconds, I'll bet," Hound grinned.

"And not freak out the neighbors any more than you have already? I think not, big guy." She paused for another sip and then decided to have a seat on Hound's knee. The mech let out a quiet sound that almost bore resemblance to a purr or a sigh. He began to stroke her shoulder with a finger. "I think living in a space that would accommodate the both of us is pretty exciting, though. I mean, especially since BREME is going to be paying off my mortgage on this place and letting us live there for free. I guess they really want to make sure you stay, huh?" she laughed.

She was extremely grateful that his commanding officer, an Optimus Prime, with permission from the BREME committee, approved for his relocation to the Alaska Department of Natural Resources, Division of Parks and Recreation. The state had actually been petitioning BREME for Autobot aid for some years now, as there was a long waiting list for that sort of thing. There were plenty of Autobots to go around for sure, but as Astrid had found out, each one had their own areas of expertise and vehicle modes that would make them more or less useful in certain areas. You wouldn't enlist Blaster's help in shipwreck expeditions in the Great Lakes, for instance, or Hot Rod's help in clearing minefields in Laos.

Hound had proven himself as an extremely capable tracker over the years, and was more or less built to be an imaging and data collection expert; couple that with his insatiable love for the natural world, and you had the perfect mech for the job.

"It's going to take me a little while to get used to this whole midnight sun business," she said, looking up at the still light sky, a dusk that was 3 hours in the making. "I mean, hell; I need to go to bed soon and the sun hasn't gone down yet!"

"Are the blackout shades working?"

"Yeah, they do just fine. It's still weird though."

"You know, it's a perpetual dusk on Cybertron. Or perhaps early morning, depending on your preference."

"That would drive me nuts. I'd probably kill myself, actually."

"After getting to experience such intense day/night cycles as you've got here on Earth, I don't think I could go back to that easily either." Astrid yawned and rested her head on his grille. Hound peered down at her, and their eyes met. "You want to head over to the garage for a bit?"

"Sure," she smiled. It had become a routine for them, and sometimes she'd just sleep out there with him anyways. She lazily slid off his leg and stoop up, stretching a bit, trying to shake the sleep off a little. Hound rose up behind her (she'd always gotten a secret thrill from standing next to him at his full height) and took the long way around into the structure.

The human found it funny that the garage was still the most well-furnished and "moved-in" part of the house. Though, it was appropriate and expected given the situation. So in the settled; Hound rested on the numerous area rugs piled on the floor, reclining against an old couch against the wall and flipping on the TV to the 10 o'clock news program.

She sat beside his head and shoulders on the couch, getting in as close as she could, letting drowsy bliss overcome her.

But Hound, she knew, seem to have something else on his mind. Tonight was indeed their last night together before he was being sent away for a week to Denali National Park, and neither of them were looking forward to it in the slightest.

So when he turned his head to the side and looked at her with deep, bright optics, completely ignoring the TV, she knew exactly what was going through that mind of his...

* * *

_If you want to read the rest (i.e. EXPLICIT SEX) then you can find it at **archiveofourown org works 275018**- I take it you'll be able to figure out what special characters go where. Enjoy, and when you're done with that, don't forget to read the sequel, Body Check!  
_


End file.
